Could you introduce yourself for us? 
Born in Moab Utah, and transitioning from Salt Lake City, I’m a photographer & artist based in New York City. While my creative journey has led me down many paths, first starting in jazz drumming, then through product/graphic design, right now my primary focus is behind the lens. For the past few years, I’ve been documenting landscapes, cars, streets, and architecture - though I don’t really stick to a specific genre. But the guiding theme for me is capturing scenes in the moment - wherever I am, whenever I am, whoever I’m with, and whatever I’m seeing.



You’ve had diverse environment be a thru line for you - I’m not sure how big the Moab to SLC to NYC pipeline is, you may be one of a handful! How has that impacted your approach to work?

I always imagined myself leaving Moab to explore bigger cities to meet new people and learn more about the world beyond those borders. Salt Lake City was an easy step given the proximity, and it really provided me with new ways of approaching life and inspirations. I actually picked up my first camera while living there, so I guess you could say my “official” start to the pursuit of photography started in the city - wandering downtown at night capturing alleys and street corners when no one was around. My creative drive was to make the cityscape feel anonymous, an unrecognizable futuristic metropolis (I had just fell in love with Akira and Ghost in the Shell). I always liked to imagine myself in another world, in a city bigger than SLC, since I was always dreaming about New York. 

Funnily enough, once I landed in NYC, I wasn’t as drawn to that kind of subject matter anymore, I basically paused on the cityscapes. The longer I’ve been here out east, the more I’ve been craving those western landscapes I grew up in. I’m sure many can relate, but the thought of moving to a globally connected city seemed akin to more creative opportunities, but I’ve realized my path as an artist has actually led me back to reconnecting with my small town roots. That’s one of the reasons why this collection is so close to my heart and tied to my childhood in a small Utah town.

I find myself enamored with the desert, as many are, but I feel a special bond with the Utah deserts - maybe because I’m from here? Because I’ve experienced them a certain amount of times? I’m not sure. I had some friends in town recently who found themself awestruck with the Wasatch range, and it was a good reminder of how stunning my home is. With your home being Moab, how has your relationship with the town and the environment changed as you’ve grown into adulthood? 

I totally feel you man, the desert here is truly unique and truly transportive. I’ve had similar experiences of bringing friends to the home-state, their eyes just glazing over the mountains/canyons the whole time.

Naturally, the older I’ve gotten has made me realize how special it really is. Not only is the desert magical, but it’s also a relatively rare type of environment. Understanding the scarcity and limited access of the landscape has only deepened my gratitude and grounding in the present moment whenever I’m there. Exploring other parts of the world has taught me that more than anything.

I remember one specific moment last year when I was visiting some friends in Costa Rica, and we went swimming in this tucked away river in the rainforest. At a certain point while taking it all in, I realized I had access to this kind of experience in Moab, in a creek that was a 5 minute drive from my house. In my mind I thought, “holy shit”, Moab is really a global destination, realizing why so many people from around the world come there. Just like me traveling from afar to visit Costa Rica, it really hit me how extraordinary southwest Utah is, and how lucky I was to grow up there. 

These photos were made on a road trip with your mom - did being with her change the way you approached your photos?

Totally. There’s so much to explore in Moab, it’s easy to forget all of the other wonders around the area. We had a few extra days when I was home last Christmas, so we took a long weekend to venture down to Monument Valley, driving through Cortez and other small towns on the Navajo Reservation. We dove deep into the history of Navajo rug weaving, jewelry making, pottery, and just about everything else... It felt like a field trip.

I was really awestruck by the rug weaving specifically - learning about the dying process using desert florals and botanicals. Although the style I was really drawn to is called “Two Grey Hills”, which doesn’t dye the wool at all, but rather uses an assortment of the natural brown, black, grey, and cream colors straight from the sheep. This approach really spoke to me, and I think it carries deep wisdom/values of creating through an untainted filter, and respecting what you find. I ended up buying a small rug in this style, just outside of Monument Valley - and for me it had a big influence on how I approached these images. Using their process as a guiding light, I tried to stay true to what I saw without throwing a whole new coat of paint on top.

Not only did I learn a lot from the native approach to art and life, but also from my mom’s personal background.

Funny enough, she’s originally from upstate New York and ventured out West in college. The beauty of a roadtrip is the time it provides for conversation and stories, so she told me about how she fell in love with the desert geology, open landscapes, the pace of life, and everything else out there. Learning is a never ending journey, so even though she’s been there for most of her adult life, the trip was super educational and eye opening for the both of us. Just two desert rats burrowing deeper into the history behind the people who were there before us and the wisdom that can still be discovered from the Navajo & Pueblo people’s way of life.

This collection of images embodies that whole trip for me. Time spent together with my mom is always special, especially now that I live so far away. While I always strive to capture emotionally rich moments in my photos, these shots dig a bit deeper for me.

The reason I ask, is because of a recent project from Alec Soth, A Pound of Pictures, in which Alec reflects on the physical “weight” of a photo - something that, if you were to ask a 12 year old today “how much does a photo weigh”, would mean nothing to them. I in turn have been thinking about the mental weight of photos. I took this frame of our family cabin in Afton, Wyoming a couple of summers ago, and it ended up being an incredibly profound familial experience for us all, because my uncle ended up passing away a year later. Now, these photos hold a weight in my head. Point being - I cherish these photos, because of the weight of it all. Do your photos hold any proverbial weight? If so, would you mind reflecting and sharing that with us? 

First of all, thank you so much for putting me on to Alec’s work, it’s a really special collection of photography - and such a powerful title. Also appreciate the backstory on the cabin shot, that’s always been one of my favorites from you and it means so much more as a viewer now knowing the background behind it!

This collection holds a considerable amount of weight for me personally. The calm energy of the desert keeps me grounded daily even from a distance, and just the thought of the flowing red rocks brings me peace when I’m navigating the high stimulation in New York. I was fortunate enough to be able to travel a lot last year, but by the end of the year, I was just ready to go to Moab man. The desert, it was really calling to me.. I thought about it so much last year.

I had this moment one morning last summer, a bit overwhelmed with life that day, as I was eating my daily oatmeal out of my favorite bowl. A deep, red, muddy glazed ceramic bowl made by my friend Vanessa Deanda (Deanda Ceramics, check her out), which I picked up due to its red rock resemblance. While staring into the depths of this bowl that morning, tears just started to flow down my cheeks. This homesickness just took over my whole body - I was really feeling the distance between here and home. I felt so grateful for that bowl that maintained my connection in that moment, but man I missed Moab. I had to prioritize a visit back there.

I made it out there for Christmas and stayed a few weeks. For me, these photos are a culmination of everything I felt on that trip. The homesickness being healed, the distance shortened, the connection reconnected. The weight of home in Utah has become heavier over the years, and as you put it, these photos now hold a weight in my head.

Your use of color is so enthralling for me, especially for these frames. Being familiar with some of your earlier work, it seems that color was at the forefront of your photo making process. Was this a conscious decision? 

Thank you for the kind words man, means so much to me that you’re still following the journey! Color has definitely been a big focus for me recently, especially as I’ve transitioned to shooting all of my personal work on film. Shooting digitally, you have a lot more control with colors/lighting in the edit without compromising image quality. So editing film scans has taught me to create with a lighter touch, an approach that’s more faithful to the original exposure and getting it right in camera.

As a photographer, I gather most of my inspiration from painters, one of the reasons being that their palettes are so intentional and harmonized. When editing these frames, I tried to approach the color grade as a painter would, reducing the palette to its core, primary elements blending reds, greens, and blues. There was an additional layer to balance with these, given the array of hue variation in the red rocks. Sometimes they’re brown, sometimes red, blood orange, dusty pink, etc. It was a bit of a deep dive to edit a cohesive set while staying true to the natural spectrum in color.

Another balancing act in my creative process was centered around surrealism vs realism. When I was out there shooting, it felt like a dream, like I was taken out of reality. When creating photographs, my goal is to represent what’s felt more than what was seen. So in the post-processing, naturally I was gravitating towards this dreamlike quality, softening things up and brightening the colors without it looking over-edited, I still want the scenes to look real, because of course they were real moments. It’s an interesting tightrope to walk with my work.

Is there anything you’d like us to know about the work I haven’t touched on?

I think you’ve done a really solid job with these questions, and thank you again for taking the time for this interview and all the support you’ve shown over the years. I feel like I’ve already said so much, but on this last note I just want to reiterate how lucky we are to experience these places today. Consider all of the time that’s led to the current sculpting of the rocks, for the monuments to have eroded just as they are, but not so much as to have completely washed away. We live in a really unique moment in time, where everything is as it is, and wow are we lucky to experience it.

These reflections all rose to the surface while capturing this collection. For me, these images serve a reminder of the beauty of the present moment, and to keep exploring the beautiful world we inhabit.

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