Content Warning! This new photographic series delves into the topics of depression and suicide, in photo form. There is no sensational or upsetting photo, only the reference of an upsetting topic.

We all have different ways of handling our anxieties. This series explores how unique we are, showing that everyone takes the metaphoric “leap” differently. The body remains anonymous while the silk fabric represents the subtle changes and shifts in each of us. We are all vastly similar but retain subtle differences that set us apart, just like the photos in this series.

This series was challenging for me and doesn’t look like anything I’ve created before. I put myself in situations I wasn’t used to and the seemingly simple concept I had was challenging to create. Like many things in life, a lot of factors contributed to the series and I needed many of them to line up. I almost gave up multiple times and to this moment, I’m unsure of what I created. All I know is that I can’t grow as a photographer unless I confront new ideas and test new theories. This series is that.

And finally, this topic is real, and often upsetting. If you are experiencing these thoughts and seek help, please text HOME to 741741 from anywhere in the United States, anytime.


“In a world where irony reigns, where you have to separate, protect and laugh at anything that is honest or has an emotional charge, I bet for catharsis. I like to invest emotionally in things. And catharsis, when it touches the emotional vein, can open the doors of even those who protect themselves.

— Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu

A series of 13 photographs made using a Rollei 2.8 with expired infrared film.


In essence, I believe this to be a universal truth:
Our innate human desire to organize reality into dichotomies is a toxic underrepresentation of the fullness of our divinity, our deep connection to the cosmos. Our habitual separation and isolation of ideas is devastating to ourselves, our relationships, and all of humankind. It is only when we step beyond limitations and into the fullness of non-duality, moving beyond the ideas of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ and embracing the light and dark as equally necessary and divinely balanced forces, that we begin to taste the sweetness of equanimity. It is only then that we can un-tether ourselves from our limited notions and two-dimensional living, and unfurl into Being.

— written by the model in the entire series who has chosen to remain anonymous

A series of 11 photographs made using a Holga with Ilford 3200 film or Rollei 2.8 with Expired Kodak TMAX 100 film.


It always feels a little weird visiting National Parks. These areas are almost always sacred or special places to Indigenous tribes and centuries later, our government only makes them accessible by charging a large fee, making millions a year from visitors. So when I stepped on to the The Great Sand Dunes Park, I had mixed feelings… both excited to be there and a little remorse about way they were “obtained.” The dunes are absolutely mesmerizing and more than likely, as a human, I had the same feelings as all the other humans that have crossed paths with these lands, lived on them, or considered them sacred.

In an effort to acknowledge those who set foot on this land prior to me, I’d like to make a note of the modern Indigenous tribes that enjoyed the beautiful dune area: The Ute word for the dunes is Saa waap maa nache, "sand that moves." The Jicarilla Apache that settled in Northern New Mexico called the dunes Sei-anyedi, meaning "it goes up and down." And the Navajo considered Blanca Peak — "Sisnaajini” — just southeast of the dunes, one of their four sacred mountains.

The beautiful area is a convergence of not only people, but of sand — which comes out of nowhere when you’re driving towards the area. Every day sand erodes from surrounding mountains and is carried by wind and water to the dunes. After thousands of years, these tiny fragments of rock begin to add up, gradually forming the largest dunes in North America. As we stood on them, the wind whipped around us and it while it was easy to see how the sand collected in this spot nestled in the mountains (think of a pile of leaves gathering in a corner of an alley), at the same time its unfathomable that so much has collected over millenniums. It’s easy to feel small and irrelevant but also grateful to stand where this powerful weather phenomenon occurs.

A series of 10 photographs made using a Holga and Ilford 3200 film or Rollei with expired Kodak TMAX 400 film


The concept of immortality has been prevalent in society and culture for as long as we’ve had both. As humans, we may not all desire to live forever but take a second to imagine if we had that choice? I’m fascinated with mortality (not from a morbid destructive viewpoint) which is why I make it a recurring theme in my photographs. I’m equally curious about immortality, more so from a spiritual perspective rather than a physical one. Our bodies certainly die, in the literal sense, but then what?

A series of 10 photographs made using a Holga with Ilford Delta 400 film or Rollei 400S film.