Blog Archives

icm (obligatory shot)

The sunset started in spectacular and over the course of a half-hour or so, just kept getting better and better.

After a while, I took a break from making regular sunset photos, and decided to do some with intentional camera movement. It’s kind of a cliche, a little redundant, perhaps derivative, but still I liked swirling the oranges and yellow together.

Camp Ellis Beach, Maine
photographed 9.16.2025

sky: afire

Let’s just go ahead and get this out of the way: I went to Maine. There was a spectacular sunset one night.

There was other stuff too, so stay tuned. But also know that that nothing else I post is going to be quite this dramatic.

Camp Ellis Beach, Maine
photographed 9.16.2025

silhouettes and sunset

I mentioned the other day that the sunset at the salt pans in Trapani didn’t work out as well as we’d hoped, but then again – there’s not really anything wrong with a sunset that looks like this.
It’s the best sunset I’ve ever seen in Trapani, if you know what I mean.

Trapani, Sicily
photographed 2.2.2025

rain chain + sunset

Maybe you know that I’ve spent the better part of the last two years working on a documentary project; it covers the entire length of Route 66 and I made just shy of 7,000 black and white images.

Later this week, my collaborator – the Oklahoma photographer VC Torneden – and I will have an exhibit of a few of these images. It’s called The Other Side and will be at the Charles Adams Gallery in Lubbock through the end of the month. Stop by, if you get a chance.

And all of that was to say that I sort of got burned out on black and white images. I love black and white and have built my photographic career (such as it is) on being a strong monochrome shooter.

So, I’m pivoting to color, and that’s all you’ll see from me for the entirety of the month.

You’ve been warned.

Yellowhouse Canyon, Texas
photographed 7.13.2023

why i love the plains

From a sky- and weather-viewpoint, the day had been fairly unremarkable. And even the sunset didn’t look too promising.

But then about 8 minutes before sundown, the sun broke through the clouds, which had looked really flat and boring. But the low angle highlighted the mammatus clouds in a way that was unexpected, dramatic, and breathtaking.

And, if this very same thing had happened somewhere with hills and/or trees, no one could have seen it. And that’s why I love the plains.

Yellowhouse Canyon, Texas
photographed 5.13.2023