trees – [ hidden void photography ]

Winter Burn March 23, 2023March 25, 2023

November 24, 2022

Cosmic Omen May 1, 2022

Light as a Feather April 19, 2022April 19, 2022

Falling into the Painted Sky January 13, 2022January 13, 2022

Nature Abhors a Vacuum

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

Clouds at Play

Clouds at Play May 9, 2021July 1, 2021

Burning through the Thicket of Thoughts

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

Escape into the Clouds

Escape into the Clouds March 28, 2021

It’s All a bit Skewed to Me

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

Burning Beyond the Blue Veil

Burning Beyond the Blue Veil February 24, 2021

The Great Cosmic Void Lingers

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

Darkness Encroaching

Darkness Encroaching February 13, 2021February 19, 2021

Climbing toward the Abyss

Climbing toward the Abyss February 11, 2021

The Spectrum of Space

The Spectrum of Space January 17, 2021January 18, 2021

Planets Linger Beyond the Cosmic Horizon

Planets Linger Beyond the Cosmic Horizon January 16, 2021

Snow Burning beneath the Sun

Snow Burning beneath the Sun December 13, 2020December 13, 2020

Out of Nothingness, Growing toward Infinity

Out of Nothingness, Growing toward Infinity December 3, 2020

Burning in the Darkness

Burning in the Darkness November 29, 2020

Off Color

Off Color November 14, 2020

Darkness Falls Fast

Darkness Falls Fast August 20, 2020

Veins on the Vine

Veins on the Vine August 2, 2020

Colors of a Cloudy Day

Colors of a Cloudy Day July 12, 2020

The Weeping Clouds

The Weeping Clouds July 11, 2020July 11, 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.