metaphor

Snow Field, Rocky Mountains

Snow Field, Rocky Mountains

Snow Field, Rocky Mountains

I don’t shoot things because they’re pretty. In fact, I often use “pretty” as a backdrop for troubling things, contrasting the sublime with the symbolic, rejecting simple aesthetic for a more introspective examination of my own relationship with the visual and modern world. Those “fusion” images, to borrow a term from a dear friend, are rare, and even more so those that grab me by the throat and shake me, demanding to be made.

The above image is one of those images for me. I had seen it from afar several times in the high country over the preceding days, but the high altitude light and cheery, puffy clouds had not illuminated the deep, brooding character of the composition. In looking at it, I felt bitter cold, profound isolation, and looming threat. On the third day, with churning storm clouds boiling overhead, and the freezing wind chewing at my face, the photograph finally revealed itself, and I made eight frames in response to its demands.

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The PlainSky, Nebraskans Show: The Complete Works No. 15

Embroidery Cottons: PlainSky Nebraskans No. 15

Embroidery Cottons: PlainSky Nebraskans No. 15

One of the showcase images in the PlainSky, Nebraskans gallery, “Embroidery Cottons, Sioux County” (like nearly all my images) is a metaphor that has led many to speculate on its possible meanings. But like most artists, I leave the answer a secret, and the audience is left to ponder.