Photography

In 2007, I began photographing himself in my bathroom, intimately inspecting the banal moments we experience daily. These moments- where we find ourselves brushing teeth, shaving, showering- are both unique within the context of our personal experience yet also common in each of our daily lives. In these habitual and repetitive actions we find our minds wandering, remembering and dissecting. Unless something out of the ordinary happens during our routines, however, the whole experience is lost. With these photographs, I attempted to focus on the moments that might otherwise be forgotten- those we all experience but rarely share.

The resulting series was called Look at Me, because although the photos represent everyday experiences, the moments revealed are my own. With this personal approach in mind, I have begun to photograph instances more private: in Go On, I'm Listening and Double-Blind, the newest pieces presented here, I explore my voyeuristic side.

Inflection, a collaborative piece done with my dear friend Ariana Page Russell, explores shared trauma and the different ways we experience and interpret it.

The Look at Me series is an intimate inspection of mundane moments we experience daily. These moments, both unique within the context of our personal experience yet also common in each of our daily lives, are often overlooked, despite the amount of time we spend within them every single day. In these habitual and repetitive actions- brushing our teeth, shaving, showering- we find our minds wandering, remembering and dissecting. Unless something out of the ordinary happens during our routines, the whole experience is lost. With Look at Me, I'm attempting to focus on those moments that might otherwise be forgotten- those we all experience but rarely share.

Photographing rooftops has been a hobby of mine for many years. An avid digital artist in my teens, my photos of church-tops and crumbling buildings played central roles in the compositions of much of my work. It was not until the winter of my twenty-third year, an antique medium-format camera in hand, that I developed an absolute passion for the subject.

It was the way the buildings looked as I gazed through my viewfinder, playing with the vibrancy of our sunsets, the richness of our summers, even the austere dullness of our grey winters. Living on my own for the first time and really starting to regard Seattle as my home, these monoliths began to feel like kin, good friends- integral parts of my daily walks to and from work. In this way, the photographs are meant to be seen as intimate portraits.

These buildings, at once solitary and full of life, seem to play with and against each other: three skyscrapers fall playfully against one another; an isolated wall dares to stand alone; a telephone pole bisects a brick building, sagging lines teasing its rooftop; four more in four corners, never to embrace; another still, reflects on the day as the sun plays its final notes on a bright pink sky.

As I continue developing as an artist, the buildings remind me that things are always looking up.