bw photography – [ hidden void photography ]

Whispering Winds

Whispering Winds June 20, 2021July 1, 2021

City of Leaves and Light

City of Leaves and Light June 6, 2021July 1, 2021

Hiking a Concrete Forest

Hiking a Concrete Forest May 29, 2021July 1, 2021

Nature Abhors a Vacuum

Nature Abhors a Vacuum May 25, 2021July 1, 2021

Shadow Dancing with Light

Shadow Dancing with Light May 15, 2021July 1, 2021

Swimming in Sunlight

Swimming in Sunlight April 30, 2021July 1, 2021

Shadow Streams

Shadow Streams April 27, 2021July 1, 2021

Grotto

Grotto April 21, 2021July 1, 2021

The Path is Beset on All Sides

The Path is Beset on All Sides April 12, 2021July 1, 2021

City Aloof

City Aloof April 3, 2021July 1, 2021

Escape into the Clouds

Escape into the Clouds March 28, 2021

Gliding on the Waves of Light March 25, 2021

“Nothingness” by In the Company of Serpents March 15, 2021

Memories . . . fragmented and fading March 11, 2021March 13, 2021

Rail City

Rail City March 6, 2021

Black Ice

Black Ice February 28, 2021

Burning Bricks

Burning Bricks February 28, 2021February 28, 2021

Brittle Bastion

Brittle Bastion February 25, 2021

Climbing toward the Abyss

Climbing toward the Abyss February 11, 2021

The Current Infrastructure

The Current Infrastructure February 7, 2021

Beneath the Surface of Perception

Beneath the Surface of Perception February 6, 2021

The Blissful Isolation of the Sky

The Blissful Isolation of the Sky February 4, 2021February 4, 2021

The Sun Shapes Patterns with Warm Hands

The Sun Shapes Patterns with Warm Hands February 2, 2021February 2, 2021

Clouds Skimming the Sky

Clouds Skimming the Sky February 2, 2021

The Shape of Reality

The Shape of Reality January 26, 2021

Before I was walking the streets of Denver with my camera, I sat inside my apartment (and a few bars) drafting a novel in grad school while studying existentialism.

It’s a narrative of a guy falling headfirst into an existential crisis, mostly drinking his way through self-hatred, the need for connection, and the weight of loneliness as the days are stacked on each other in piles like old photographs curling at the edges, soon to fade and slip silently into oblivion.