Although entirely natural, the kaleidoscopic explosion of colors and shapes in wild mountain grass are surreal. For details about the process and artistic intent, see “A Lawnmower Subversive,” or go straight to the gallery.
Destructive flames have an odd allure. After months of photographing wild and prescribed burns near Boulder, Colorado, I gained tremendous respect for wildland firefighters. They do a valuable, romantic, and difficult job. But my opinions about wildland fire mitigation are more nuanced. For details about fires and my artistic intent, see “One End of the Forest,” or go straight to the gallery.
This unique collection explores unusual patterns found within crevasses, in ice caves, along exposed glacier walls, and occasionally on a grounded iceberg. Never ending drips and streams of meltwater create the mesmerizing patterns, along with crystal boundaries, fractures, and bubbles of trapped air. All photographs are from the Muir, Margerie, Reid, Lamplugh, Riggs, McBride, and Morse Glaciers in Glacier Bay National Park. For more, see the “Ice Gallery.”
This unconventional collection features hypnotic predator eyes, entrancing colors, and just a hint of danger. Eyelash pit vipers are gorgeous arboreal ambush predators, waiting on branches before striking at birds, tree frogs, and lizards with a highly venemous hemotoxin. Despite the brilliant yellow (with variants in green and pink), these snakes are difficult to find, blending in well with old yellowing leaves. For more, see the “Viper Etudes Gallery.”
Each footstep is a tiny plant cell on a flower petal. By carefully choosing the focus, I select a path of cells that appear to move up and around multihued hills. The photographs in this portfolio are achieved with traditional cameras rather than microscopes. For details, see “Footprints on Flower Petal Dunes,” or go straight to the gallery.
My springtime thicket photographs are often mistaken for fall colors, but mountain willows and alder bushes show amazing colors in April and May. A wet spring and late freeze will keep the leaves from budding early, and the colors of the new year's growth on each branch turned especially vibrant. The fine details of each branch are best seen in prints. For more, see the “Thickets Gallery.”
Sometimes I turn into a tomato. Don't we all? No, no, not literally. Figuratively, like you're about to get squished by life. On those special occasions, I drop into the studio and do mixed media work. For more, see the “Metamorph Gallery.”