When I think of the theme “Trace,” I find my mind wanders out to the periphery of things. We can think of the obvious trace we leave behind as our human legacy — which we often deem of negative impact: trash and poison in many variations. But I wonder in reverse how the smoke in the sky leaves a trace on our lungs, our impact feeling far off but being quite direct. How a note in a fire pit mocking someone’s lack of care traces us back to our own follies. But I also like to consider how our bodies meld into the body of the earth. How the trace we leave is a ripple in the water of life. We are part of the drop that creates the ripple; we are not separate from this place, rather a deeply ingrained part of it. How the earth as our home carves into us as much as we carve into it and the result is interdependency that we can trace from beginning to end and back again. Perspective shifts and awareness blooms if we let it, and what comes from that is the ability to trace our steps through the intricate web of interconnection to see anew.
I am a photographer: an observer by nature and a maker by choice. Self portraiture and landscape work have been my focal points since the beginning. One and the same. I am of the earth. I am photographing myself either way. For me, what I do is a form of communication that is not limited by language, though allows itself to be enhanced by it. I have always been drawn to alternative ways of speaking. This fosters another way of seeing and perspective is everything. Perhaps the legacy of how we see is the ultimate trace we leave and reciprocally, imprinted upon us.