I didn't pay much attention the first two times a police helicopter circled overhead while I made photographs on a moonless night in my Phoenix backyard. But when the patrol car pulled up at the end of the driveway, I did stop for a moment and wonder what was going on. I guess they did, too. Yes officer, I know it's 2 a.m. and it might seem a little strange to be running around in complete darkness with giant pieces of watercolor paper, a slide projector and three kiddie play pools filled with photo development chemicals. But this adventure is too big to be contained by the constraints of an indoor darkroom, and too interesting to let a good night's sleep get in the way. Officer, this is not some outdoor meth lab operation, and I'm not crazy . . . I'm just making art
	For me, photography is a means of telling visual stories. The artwork I create pushes past the boundaries of verbal storytelling into languages of historic photographic processes (bromoil, cyanotype, gum bichromate). I hope to engage viewers in wanting to know more and encourage them to give their own stories a voice. Some of these images were created during artist residencies at Rocky Mountain National Park and Yosemite National Park. I hiked 70 miles per week during each residency, but also had plenty of opportunity to sit and enjoy a sunset, read the writings of John Muir or observe the changing seasons.
	Over the past several years I have also been strongly influenced by three extended visits to Ecuador and Peru, where I studied pottery with local artisans, photographed their lives and heard their stories. They, too live in a place and time where their lives for the most part are unrecorded by photographs or storytelling. One of my personal goals is to create such a record of these remarkable artists and their vanishing craft during future travels to South America. Enter Photography Gallery