Maybe It is was the three helicopters he went down in while serving in Vietnam. It might have been his
memories of childhood and long road trips with his family. Whatever the reason we rarely chose flight. Travel plans with dad meant one thing; road trip. Dragging myself out out a warm bed and into the back seat of the family car fill my early childhood memories. I recall the feeling of drifting in and out of dreams as the warm sunlight slowly began cresting the horizon, casting a magical glow over the landscape. All of this captured through the frame of that old rear window; compositions shifting in the blink of an eye, never constant, always changing. This is how I discovered a passion I wouldn’t fully realize for nearly two decades.
I wasn't one of those straight out of high school, I know what I want to do, go to college, get the degree, meet the girl and have a family type people. I struggled. I struggled hard to discover my path in life. It took over a decade of traveling the country bouncing from one dirty bar job to another to end up here. It strikes me now that I've always been looking through the viewfinder. Not necessarily one on the back of a camera but nevertheless through a frame. I’ve held many titles over the years, son, brother, roofer, bartender, waiter, student. None of these felt right. Perhaps that frame that I had spent hours staring out as a child had become something more. It had given me a new title; Photographer.
