I make photographs. Or at least that's how I've thought of myself in relation to photography since the beginning.
The truth is that as of this writing I spend more time thinking about photographs and visual symbolism than I do making pictures. My thoughts about these topics have never been entirely organized, consistent or structured despite a few half-hearted attempts.
This is another one of those attempts, but my life is different now and so I hope the result may be as well. I don't make my living entirely through commissions anymore (though I still take them), and I don't have nearly the same time to be out in the world as I used to as I care for my son at home. I live in a new city and (as of writing) I'm not sure what I want to photograph here yet.
What I do feel quite sure of is that pictures are fundamentally inexplicable and unknowable (this is part of why I love them) - but writing can elucidate their power. It can help to provide perspective on how images bury themselves into our own view of the world and even ourselves. The best writers on photography have done this for me. I also wish that the society I live in would spend more time investigating the role pictures play in our own lives, and so I'll start here. I am sure I will delve into the impetus behind my own pictures, but I will also investigate images out in the world. Like the pictures I make, this work will likely result in more questions than answers.
The title is a reminder that to photograph is an act of appreciation, amongst other things. It is also a nod to a Wendell Berry essay that emphasizes the importance of appreciating where you are (amongst other things). Finally, it is a reminder to myself to attempt to the leave cynicism (but not criticism, and not skepticism) aside where I can. I've got it in spades, and the world's got enough of it too.