Arbor, Neighbor
Images made in 2018, published 2019

Someone asked me in the backseat of a white 2006 Honda Accord one time: “are you okay?” The beginning of that year wouldn’t let me feel okay. Those first four days were spent far from okay.

That night was cold and windy. We couldn’t see anything besides the dock we were standing on. Maybe that was for the better. Twenty minutes north of town seemed like a hundred miles away that night. The breeze of January winter tore through the bare limbs of the pines and oaks that surrounded the lake.

Maybe I was searching for something I couldn’t find. Maybe the trees and water in front of me were just a façade of something we were both looking for. But maybe we were both just looking for an escape.

The year following left me with only a camera and a car. Those twenty minutes that felt like a hundred miles took me to a place where I could feel okay. I embraced fog that caressed the arbor and the amber light that bathed the barks of these trees so often ignored. A year was spent escaping there, wandering the woodland with nothing but a camera. Looking for the delicate dance between myself and nature. I sought my way out of that year before by pacing among the wires of Man and the spires of nature. I began to feel something close to okay.

And now instead of asking if I’m okay, I will ask myself “are you home?”

These sixty photographs were made during the entirety of 2018. January 21 up until December 22. What started off as a relatively small series of woodland landscapes made in January later turned into my first photo book. I found myself traveling to the woods multiple times every month for that year. The “chapter breaks” through short writings depict the narrative in my mind while I was creating this book. I learned a lot about myself through working on this, from photography to my life.

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