Kitchen, Medium Format, 2024
Beacon Street, Half-frame, 2024
Hold, Medium Format, 2024
Kristin's Bird Skulls, Half-frame, 2024
Bulldozer, Half-frame, 2024
After Anne Brigman, Medium Format, 2024
Holding Eclipse, 35mm, 2024
Tree by the Bells, Half-frame, 2024
Mud, Medium Format, 2024
Nest, Medium Format, 2024
Catie, Medium Format, 2024
Shield, Half-frame, 2024
Gaze, Medium Format, 2024
Phragmites, Medium Format, 2024
Zeus, Medium Format, 2024
Avery on her bed, Medium Format, 2024
Covered Window, Medium Format, 2024
Sword, Medium Format, 2024
Tree Stump Sun, Medium Format, 2024
There is something unique about photography’s ability to hold both wonder and loss.
The title Blueshift is derived from the phenomenon where light is measured as more blue than it actually is as it moves towards you. This is a distortion similar to the Doppler Effect with sound. Blueshifts occur because light is compressed. It is most obviously seen in stars. I’ve been thinking about how this compression of moving closer can be measured through light.
The act of darkroom printing recreates the light that was first cast on the subjects. The print touched light that touched the light that touched the face of my friend. When we look at a photograph, we talk about it as a piece of the past, or a portal into it. I think about photos as time travel from both directions. You see an image and are moving towards the past, while the subject in the past is transported to the present. You are both blue shifting from each other's perspectives. You are getting nearer, and fast too.
In my work and in life, I feel the impulse to hold things tighter when I realize how time is passing. I blueshift. I look closely with curiosity and sensitivity. I am a collector, a photographer, and a writer. I mythologize the people and places I love in an attempt to make them live forever.
