The smell is the first thing that gets to you. I still remember walking towards this place two months ago. The smell got me then, too. There's something unique about the smell of
(Content warning: suicide) I showed this picture to my wife, and her first words were "wow, I would frame this… except that it doesn't feel right framing someone's tragedy…" And even though there
A gentle giant rumbled in the sky In older times, when weather was a friend With eyes shut tight, I'd feel the wind drift by But patterns, large and small, began to bend
One of my favorite challenges in photography is finding ways to represent experiences, and sentiments, that aren't just visual. Like, "how do I convey the scent of a field of grass, moments after