I was born somewhere cold.
For years we were nomadic, travelling to unusual, beautiful and wild places. We finally landed on an island full of rocks and trees and built a home as a family, a family that fiercely believed in individuality and unwaveringly supported our creativity.
With little money or technology, there was always work to do. Rock picking, gardening, and forest foraging was work that became a lifelong pleasure. I entertained myself digging holes, finding sticks and bones and staying up late with scissors and glue. And lots and lots of books. I mummified my goldfish, collected wiggly sticks and wasps' nests and always had bits of Plasticine and paper in my hair.
My mom bought me a camera for my high school graduation and it became a part of me. When my dad died a few months later, we built a darkroom over the spot where he died. It kept the swearing down while I was learning to load 35mm film reels. I bought books and chemicals and taught myself how to process and print. I didn’t have hot running water so many of my early experiments were with temperature. I learned to love contrast, and still do.
I never stopped loving bones and dusty old books, so I spent a few years working on becoming an archaeologist. But plans change. I studied photography. Purely shooting never gave me the satisfaction that came from handling my images from inception to enjoyment, and I eventually found my place in photographic and digital imaging. This was a career that I enjoyed for over a decade and that provided me with unique technological expertise, valuable professional challenges and varied creative opportunities.
Recently I decided to spend more time varying those creative opportunities. Why and what I create is difficult for me to describe. I am reluctant to call myself an artist. I am a photographer, collector, sculptor, printer, designer, vigilante gardener and bone enthusiast. What I’m really doing is whatever makes me happy.
For information about my work please email firstname.lastname@example.org