hidden void photography – [ hidden void photography ]

Cosmic Perspective May 22, 2022May 22, 2022

Wandering along the Edges of the Earth

Wandering along the Edges of the Earth July 4, 2021July 4, 2021

Cloud Collage

Cloud Collage July 2, 2021

Whispering Winds

Whispering Winds June 20, 2021July 1, 2021

Gossamer Flung Far Above

Gossamer Flung Far Above June 17, 2021July 1, 2021

Hiking a Concrete Forest

Hiking a Concrete Forest May 29, 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

Burning through Boundaries

Burning through Boundaries April 17, 2021July 1, 2021

Burning through the Thicket of Thoughts

Burning through the Thicket of Thoughts April 6, 2021July 1, 2021

A Walk beneath the Profound

A Walk beneath the Profound April 2, 2021July 1, 2021

Nightfall by In the Company of Serpents March 30, 2021September 23, 2021

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

It’s All a bit Skewed to Me

It’s All a bit Skewed to Me March 3, 2021

Black Ice

Black Ice February 28, 2021

The Great Cosmic Void Lingers

The Great Cosmic Void Lingers February 19, 2021February 20, 2021

Beneath the Surface of Perception

Beneath the Surface of Perception February 6, 2021

City of Amber

City of Amber January 27, 2021

The Current of the Firmament

The Current of the Firmament January 13, 2021January 13, 2021

Just Passing Through

Just Passing Through January 11, 2021

Shadows of the Sun

Shadows of the Sun January 10, 2021

Early Illumination

Early Illumination December 24, 2020

The Path Not Taken Decays All The Same

The Path Not Taken Decays All The Same October 12, 2020

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.