I carry with me at all times an urge to look closer at whatever catches my eye. With a camera in hand, the urge feels natural, and I act on it instinctively. I’m struck by irregularities, things that stick out in an otherwise mundane setting. When I photograph, I am alone. My camera is my tool for investigating. Through the lens, I can take a piece of something tangible and re-formulate its appearance.

I’m most drawn to the materials that make up a scene. Metal. Large slabs. Heavy objects. Sharp Edges. Dangerous objects and structures. I’m most drawn to photograph places where the average passerby won’t normally go, and because of this impulse, I often run into boundaries. They make me curious. Even in places that aren’t blocked by something as real as a fence, I can sense when my curiosity or presence is not encouraged. But to me, such boundaries beg to be crossed. Lurking behind supermarkets, trekking around abandoned vehicles or underneath delivery trucks. Climbing through industrial yards and on loading docks. Places that exist on the peripheral lines of everyday terrain. Sometimes people notice me with a camera as they drive by, and they’ll stop to look and wonder what I’m doing. I think people are intrigued by the idea of quiet and solitary exploration. It’s a scarce sight to see someone out on their own doing something unusual, especially in a place where only some are permitted. This is where I step in and photograph.