When I pick up my camera, the lens, becomes my quiet eye and through it I try to “see into the life of things.” Putting aside my point of view, assumptions, and judgments, I shoot those things that make me pause and require me to be present with them. I am one with my camera and whatever I am shooting and– time stops. There is no past or future. I am vulnerable and open to whatever appears or shows itself. I am open to the scars and cracks—the imperfections, as well as, the beauty of symmetry, shadow and light. I am a beach combing nomad collecting all the castaways that line the shore. I treasure and study the things that most would step on or walk right by. I marvel at the strength and beauty of every bit that has been at the mercy of the tide. Each one taking its beatings and washed ashore with all the marks of it’s journey — more interesting with all of its flaws. I honor the beauty of imperfection and struggle.
For me there are no castaways, just treasures. All living things have integuments—a tough outer layer or shell that see them through the highs and lows, the bumps and bruises, the births and deaths. Every freckle, stretch mark wrinkle mole, scar or tattoo is a testament to the tide of life. Our shells display the imperfect beauty of our experiences. Everything has integumentary majesty and essence. My work is a meditation on what it means to be whole and radiant, because of our struggles and imperfections—not in spite of them.
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