2024
Unbound
2024
Made of Air
“The world's continual breathing is what we hear and call silence.” — Clarice Lispector
It’s such a simple act; to breathe. To take air into the lungs and then expel it. Typically we take around 20,000 breathes in a single day and 7.5 million in a year. Just like seconds, heartbeats, and blinks, these tiny fractions of life are finite and none us knows what that final number is. And yet we all continue to take them, to participate in this fucked up experiment nature has bestowed upon us. We collectively agree life is worth living and breathing is the act that permits us to do so.
While it doesn’t always feel this way, our bodies, and our lives as a whole, are delicate. There is no guarantee the combination of flesh, muscle, bone, and neurons will continue to work. Any moment of any day is a risk. Life is fragile and requires a constant attention to remain alive. This new series is about just that— the delicate nature of our body, mind, and life. It’s a photographic ode to fragility and the beauty that permeates it.
We are but fragments of a whole; an entity. Mere minuscule pieces of an enormous perhaps unsolvable, puzzle. Nature cares nothing about any of us and yet we continue to breathe. We opt to take part, to acknowledge our existence and make our best efforts to fit in. Every time we sleep we die and every time we wake we are born to, once again, participate in the ritual of living.
I finally consider myself fragile, something I’ve grown to realize even more in the past year. That immortal feeling many of us are bestowed with at a young age is gone. I’ve become more cautious and more understanding of the brittleness of life, however less understanding of death itself. I question it, I’m aware of it, I fear it immensely.
I’d take immortality without hesitation.
2024
The Dark and the Light and Everything in Between
It began with reflection. Inward reflection of the self. This last year has been, largely, a struggle— in both a physical and mental sense. My health deteriorated, seemingly out of nowhere, and I’m still attempting to regain normalcy and mediocrity… which wholeheartedly, I crave. I am eager for the a day where I feel completely myself again.
Because of these issues, I’ve had a vast amount of time alone; to contemplate everything imaginable. To be quite honest, taking my own life weaved it’s way into my thinking. Because how can one possibly live with an ailment? I realized, quickly, how pathetic and ableist that thought was but unfortunately having control over consciousness isn’t the easiest.
And so the journey to outmaneuver my mind began. I sat in solitude for many hours thinking of, essentially, everything. I wouldn’t call it meditation as meditation doesn’t come easy for me. My mind races constantly, never truly calming. So as I sat in silence (I’d often forgot to play any music for hours at at time) and contemplated everything my feeble mind could ponder…. the dark and the light and everything in between.
Out of those thoughts a photographic series came to mind. A series involving self reflection, only it’s incredibly difficult to photograph self reflection. How do you photograph a feeling coming from within? Instead of attempting to, I used a mirror as a visual reference of that contemplation. That reflection of one’s own. At some points it reflects inward and at others, outward. It symbolizes our mind, a deep and largely uncharted realm we struggle to full understand.
The spectacular philosopher Hanna Arendt believed solitude was different from both isolation and loneliness in that it requires being physically alone. However, in solitude, the self is not existentially alone. The self keeps company with itself, in dialogue with itself. While both loneliness and isolation are marked by disconnection and desertion, in solitude the individual remains connected to oneself and the world.
This concept Arendt proposes is the idea behind “The Dark and the Light and Everything in Between.” Taking time with one’s self is important and impactful however it’s critical to stay connected with the world. Self reflection has always been frightening to me. I desire not to look inward, afraid of what I’ll find. Challenging that thinking has been critical in making progress with my mental health even though I’d prefer not participate.
But I have no choice. My progress may be slow but I have no other option but to take those small steps towards healing. I know much of what I’m describing is vague, but that is purposeful. I believe many of us, especially those who read and follow my work, find themselves in similar positions and can and will relate to my words and images. If not now, at some point in time. This common ground acts as a bridge between us, and that bond, or connection, is the reason I continue to create the photographs I do.
2024
nonlinear
My life, at the very least, has been anything but a straight line. I can't imagine anyone's truly is. Along the way, we encounter obstacles that force us to make decisions that can drastically alter our course. Life is like modern dance—a constant movement, a flow with countless angles and possibilities. For me, though, it feels as if that dance has grown complicated and lost a lot of its meaning.
I envy any person who can follow a straight path through life. Some people seem to know exactly what they want and need, and they go after it with precision, whether it's something ordinary or wildly ambitious. I find myself slightly envious of that clarity. In contrast, I feel like I'm bulldozing through life off-road, with miles of open space ahead and an endless array of obstacles to plow through.
The unpredictability of my journey often leaves me feeling disoriented, as if I'm navigating without a map, never quite sure if I'm heading in the right direction. There’s a certain thrill in forging my own nonlinear path, but it’s also exhausting, and the lack of a clear destination sometimes makes me question the purpose of it all.
I admire those who seem to glide through life with confidence and direction, but I’ve come to realize that my chaotic route, with all its detours and challenges, has shaped me in ways a straight line never could. It’s messy, uncertain, and full of unknowns, but as cliche as it may sound, that’s where the real adventure lies.
I need to start allowing myself forgiveness in this life, especially when something goes wrong that is out of my control. I can’t possibly be perfect and yet that is what I seemingly strive for, perhaps stemming from my childhood. The straight line; perfection from point A to B. While I know it’s not realistic, I was always told I had to be the best at everything. Instead, it’s time I accept and take the nonlinear route.
2024
i who have never known men
this series is inspired by the book of the same name by Jacqueline Harpman.