That’s the thing about life. You just don’t know till you try.
The Sanctuary of Living Space
It was beautifully overcast yesterday. A little rain in June. Our garden is starting bloom. Many of these plants began as seeds that we started in February. It is very exciting to watch them mature as I remember the day they each first poked through the dirt. Then, when they were big enough, lovingly transplanted into containers, and finally when Spring arrived, we put them in the ground. Continue reading Impressions from a Secret Garden
A Fine Art Photo Zine…
Reflections of Emptiness in the American West
I have begun work on a collection of black and white nature and landscape photography in film of the American West. Haunting and minimalist, raw and complex, these images document a personal journey of traveling on faith and uncovering deep mysteries.
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“And he who has considered all the contrasts on this earth, and is no more disturbed by anything whatever in the world, the Peaceful One, freed from rage, from sorrow, and from longing, he has passed beyond birth and decay.” – Buddha
Captured and printed with my phone and published to Instagram, these photographs of a historical cemetery near my home in Northern California have been coming to mind lately. The graveyard rests upon a hill among an old grove of trees. I’ve been walking and photographing there since I moved several years ago.
We were driving north from Ojai, summer 2013, hot as fuck high noon, van leaking coolant, just enough to annoy you. Hwy 101 north of Santa Maria, no mans land, and in the distance a shimmer. No way that is a human being on this road, right now. Shock. It is. Cars screaming by. Oh shit. Slow down, we have to pick him up, don’t stop though, too hot for the van. Open the sliding door, just let him fall in. Instinct takes over. Where’s the water, its all we got. Drink it all, I say. He does and passes out on the floor of the van. Will he die? Do we need to find a hospital? He comes around in a bit. We take him to King City. Get him some more water. Says he’s OK and can take it from here. I think you just saved my life, he said. I nodded, yes I think so too. Said thank you and before parting ways wanted to show us his back, it was covered, tattooed with angel’s wings.
“We would rather be ruined than changed
We would rather die in our dread
Than climb the cross of the moment
And let our illusions die.”
W.H. Auden (1907 – 1973)
Which way to turn, to the left to the right straight ahead or burn, All these pathways lead the same, fortune lost a tortured fame, One thousand callings to forsake this hill, these choices find me standing still.