I
The focused eye
It began with the click of a shutter and a refusal to look away from beautiful decay. For years, I viewed the world through a lens, capturing the quiet, unscripted moments where nature and time collide. New Hampshire is not simply a subject to be photographed. Its woods have a way of getting under your skin.
II
The architect of chaos
I live at the intersection of Victorian Gothic sensibilities and the raw reality of a life lived loud. My hands are usually stained with dirt or ink. When they are not, they are tethered to a crochet hook, weaving yarn into physical manifestations of restless thoughts.
III
The manifesto
If you are looking for a polished, sugar-coated version of the creative life, you have wandered into the wrong forest. I am defined by what I create, not what I have endured.
Pull up a chair. The tea is hot, the ink is wet, and the secrets are plenty.