It’s been 15 years since I shared my work online, but with unindexed discretion, I think it’s time. The print has a kind of absolute fidelity that washes away the flickering allure pixels, but my vehement bond to metal and gelatin has been softened by the Exploring Community that I’ve cultivated. My printed images have swaddled me in warm semi-matte blankets for half my life, but perhaps the Sub-Premium Luster of this “digital emulsion” is worth the strides it provides in pursuit of a wider social color gamut… If you’re reading this, I probably love you, and hey- at least it’s not instagram. If you read enough, there actually is some piss.
In my work, I see my favor shifting ever further toward myopic fixations on besquiggled flotsam strewn in tertiary rectory that seem to imbue my favorite places a stranger, more subtle poignance than the epic rot of the cathedral writ large. After almost 20 years of exploring, I still skirmish with conceptual, compositional, and technical failure, but I’ve found a strange nirvana in ambivalence. My pursuit of these esoteric fascets doesn’t always inspire the compelling prints that motivate the criminal career that my entire life now orbits around, but I’d rather suffer through these tribulations than lay victim to the endemic laziness and sterility of the ultra-wide that plagues this hobby. I expose about 100-400 images on film every year, scanning about half of them, and printing maybe 50. Of those, perhaps 10 will inspire the vibrational delightitude that suture all the agony with threads of ecstasy strong enough to keep me shooting, for but a crowbar away lies some exquisite new rot, with more fantastical crimes and accomplices pried year after year. I try not to be too pretentious about all this… oops.
