When I was eight my parents gave me my first camera, a Kodak Instamatic, to take on our family vacation in Colorado. I remember being fascinated by the way the light fell on the Rockies, the way the streams reflected the Aspens and the vibrancy of the tiny flowers that made up the tundra. I was hooked by the light. I wanted to capture it all and bring it home in the form of pictures like fireflies in a jar. - I tried but I had a lot to learn.

As a teenager I got a set of used darkroom equipment and began developing my own film in a makeshift studio behind my house. I loved it all, the safe light, the smell of acetic acid, the warm developing fluids and the way my photos would spring into existence if I did things right. Most of all I loved the way I could use the light to tell colorful stories through my images in black and white. I didn't know much but it didn’t matter; I was having fun.

Soon, life happened. I finished school. Got a job. Got married (a few times). Had a fantastic son. Found friends. Found a few troubles. Traveled a bit. It was fun. It was challenging. It was busy. But, through it all there was still photography. I saw life as scenes. I saw places from unique vantage points. I always saw the light but unfortunately we were estranged. I didn’t feel I had time to do it justice so I mostly took a lot of snapshots.

Now there are no more excuses. I am lucky to have the opportunity to retire from the forty hour a week grind. My son is beginning to take an interest in photography. Technology is now such that a home base is unnecessary. My passport has been renewed. After a forty year love affair with photography I am ready to begin (and I am still terrified by how little I know).