A LIFETIME OF SEEING
I have always felt that the camera is an extension of my own vision, a way of holding onto something I have noticed and don’t want to lose. I find myself looking for those moments all the time: softness of the light, mist through the trees, reflections on water, clouds changing the character of a familiar place. Sometimes everything comes together for only a few seconds, and the rest of the world seems to recede. Time slows down, and for a moment I am completely absorbed in what I am seeing.
That is why the photographs I love most are the ones that can take me back there. When I look at them later, I don’t simply remember what the place looked like. I remember what it felt like to be there. Photography itself is much the same. The mechanics have become instinctive, and when I am shooting I can become so absorbed that hours pass without my noticing. Going through the photographs afterward lets me experience those moments again, and sharing them with someone else gives me the chance to experience them in yet another way.
The remarkable thing is that these moments are not necessarily rare. They are around us all the time; we just don’t always stop long enough to see them. Perhaps that is what these photographs are really about. Not simply the places I have been, but the moments when the world became quiet enough for me to notice it. And perhaps, hanging on someone else’s wall, a photograph can become a way of returning to that feeling again.
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