1. skate park @burtonsnowboards HQ📍Burlington, VT #burton (at Burton Bowl)

  2. Reminiscing on the feelings of Fall

    A portrait of Ryan on a walk in the Adirondacks last year. 

  3. (Michigan Dunes ; 2014)

    I often receive the situations that arise and the soul substance I encounter as obstacles, or stepping stones to start living.

    But life isn’t separate from life.

  4. Blueberry Danish and a moment of conversation under the tree at Plein Air Cafe in Hyde Park

  5. Faces of Fandom: Portraits at Chicago Pitchfork Festival 2014

    At music festivals, photographic attention is usually focused heavily on street style and band photos, and while those are intricate and necessary parts to creating a great festival, both entertainment-wise and atmospherically, I decided to approach this year a bit differently. 

    I wanted to create simple, straight-forward portraits of faces at the festival, that I found to be beautiful and interesting through my eyes. 

    The synergy between artist and fan is a show within itself; Each is the impetus for the other.


  6. “For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.

Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.

A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail.

A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live.

When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day lead you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one’s suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.” 
― Hermann Hesse, Bäume. Betrachtungen und Gedichte

  7. Steven Sampang

    Chicago, 2014

  8. Loved photographer Steven Sampang’s photo stance when he was taking my portrait, so I made it into a visual study. 

    Chicago, 2014

  9. and the sun stood still…

    Happy Summer Solstice

  10. Wet plate collodion photographer Lindsey Ross at her studio, La Chambre Photographique, in Santa Barbara 

    February, 2014

  11. Rye in the wind

    Fennville, MI

  12. Summerdaze, for Georgia

    An homage to Georgia O’Keeffe

  13. Looking forward to launching KIDS ON THE BEAT, a guide to all things kid culture. 

    Follow on Instagram for now: @kidsonthebeat

    Launching summer of 2014

  14. A moment of botanical connection

  15. My windows are open today, and I’m letting the fresh Spring air clear out all the mental and physical cobwebs of this past Winter. 

    This Spring, Summer, and Fall, I want to get outside and explore with my friends, with my family, and with you! So let’s get creative, follow our curiosities, look up at the trees and wave back, dig in the dirt, and be apart of the world we live in. 

    Childhood is an open opportunity to be silly and spontaneous as we learn about life, and how beautiful is it to be able to see these moments tangibly in a photograph? 

    This blog post is inspired by the song below. Play it for your little ones in the living room while you dance around, or in the car with the windows rolled down as you cruise…Happy Spring!

    Go outside by Cults