Photography

The news. A relentless scroll of what's broken in the world. I can't unsee. So I wander with a camera in search of a more hopeful version of the world. This is my practice of presence: slowing down, looking closely, creating beauty not by turning away from the world but by paying closer attention to it.

In this medium, I don't plan. I walk without a map or headphones and see what reveals itself. I work within constraints and carry no expectations. The delight is in finding something unexpected, in being surprised by what emerges when I pay attention. This surrender to discovery feels like freedom.

I created painterly landscapes through a dirty train window on NJ Transit, captivated by how the veil of grime filtered the view and how motion blurred the familiar into abstraction.

For two years, I photographed the same green mailbox at the corner of Morningside Park after every rain. In the puddle that formed, I found a mirror that swallowed depth; street and sky folded into one surface, the familiar made strange through water and light.

When I moved to Harlem on crutches, forced slowness became radical attention. I composed with rust, peeling posters, nails, and scaffolding, seeing elegance and order where others saw decay.