I've always had this feeling that something existed beyond what I could perceive with my eyes; that reality as I experienced it was fleeting, unstable, and quickly transformed by attention and will. That sensation never left me. I carried it with me through my long relationship with photography. I used it as a catalyst to study the craft and built my first body of work based on the watery fabric of my San Francisco home.
Then I moved to Los Angeles.
Again, I found myself searching for a metaphor to explain my world. My wanderings led me to Hollywood, a place that looked nothing like the vision I had in my mind. How could the image of this place so utterly defy the nature of its environment? That dichotomy intrigued me.
My camera was the only instrument able to capture the landscape’s emotional and physical terrain. I started shooting. And let Hollywood show me. It was here I discerned the truth. Hollywood wasn’t just a celluloid dream. I discovered its secret nature, the success of its enduring allure. The Hollywood I found was a study in the transformative qualities of light, attention, and time. It was a place where if I looked carefully, there was always something beautiful to be found.