I photograph with a Panasonic DMC-FZ28 Lumix digital camera, and more recently with a Canon Rebel SL1, both relatively low-tech cameras, which has forced me to depend on my eye rather than the camera and lens for composition.
I am drawn to the odd angles and unusual little corners, especially of architecture. I try to find something that otherwise might not be noticed by the casual observer—how the light falls through a window, or a crack in the masonry that reveals an underlying color, or the juxtaposition of old and new, or the angles where a column and a rounded window cross each other. While others are looking at a beautiful old cathedral, I am often facing the other direction absorbed in an angled shadow. While others see the rich sunset lighting the sky, I have my camera pointed at an interesting leaf on the ground. When everyone else is admiring the peaceful mountain lake, I find the worn stones in the path. In Asian philosophy it is the wabi-sabi of life – the ephemeral beauty of those transient, decaying things that call for focused attention.
Inspiration comes from travel, family and friends, poetry and music –all facets of my life that are incorporated emotionally, mentally and physically into the final production of my art. The viewer may not see poetry, for instance, but it is one of the elements that guide my eye and my composition—sometimes consciously, sometimes not. I don't manipulate my photographs beyond the minimum of straightening, cropping or sharpening and light adjustment because I prefer my photographs to be as natural as possible, even when they are almost abstract in composition.
My hope is that in my photographs people will find something they haven't noticed before, or that they see familiar things with new eyes. I want the viewers to feel a nudge toward their personal sense of divinity, even in something as common as moss growing on a brick or the curl of wrought iron on a door knocker.