That’s a pretty great description! It’s like portraiture for objects, I want each thing I photograph to feel unique and special. I’ve always loved tinkering and playing with little objects as a kid, so the root of my practice really goes back to being three or four years old, when everything felt magical and so new.

To me, photography is very meditative. The best photograph happens when I feel that I am truly lost in the present moment and open myself up to paying really close attention to what’s in front of me. That kind of stillness isn’t always readily available, but when it does arrive, I find it incredibly inspiring and beautiful. That’s when a regular mundane object, like a pear on a kitchen table, or a fork or a spoon seem to present themselves, and then I feel like I’m making a portrait of an object. Sometimes those moments jump out at random, at other times it takes a good while photographing and trying different things until I feel like I get there. But in the end, it’s always about a feeling I get, something about it feels special, like I received a gift.

It’s both really, and varies photo to photo. Sometimes I see an object and need to photograph it undisturbed right then and there. Any intervention feels unnecessary. Other times, I may see something in the woods or an antique shop and decide to bring it in to the studio, it may sit there for days or weeks before I feel ready to photograph it, and then a chance placement of another object next to it may make it feel alive and ready. When I set things up I strive to find a balance, both literal and in composition. I think of my photography as being formalist, I want it to feel beautiful whether or not you recognise what’s in front of the camera, something about the shape and the set up needs to draw you in.

Absolutely. As I mentioned earlier, photography is meditative for me and I think of it as an opportunity to create my own world. Ideally, it provides a sense of calm, consists mostly of natural materials and makes you question whether the tin can or a rock you’re looking at has a soul.
My work is certainly less about documenting the current reality and implications of human existence and more idealistic and hopeful in nature.

That’s a great observation and I could not agree more. In my worldview, humans are a part of the world, as equal in it as a mouse or a tree. However, over the centuries we’ve developed this ego-centric worldview where we see ourselves as the centre of the universe, but objectively it’s the wrong kind of perspective to have. We are not the centre of the universe.
Life existed before humans and will exist after we’re gone. The thing that makes us special and stand out from other animals is our ability to be self-aware of our existence and observe life both subjectively and objectively. I find that to be really beautiful, to exist and revel in the beauty of life and yet to be aware that one day I will not longer be in this body.
I don’t think my dog has the same experience of life. She seems to be a lot more present, 100% of the time, yet unaware that this experience is temporary. That’s where photography comes in for me, it’s a practice of that subjective observation. Yet, as a photographer you also realise that all of these special moments will occur whether or not you capture them. For me, it’s an opportunity to make notes of what I found beautiful while I was here.

Yes, exactly. That project is kind of a personal photo album and meditation on life. The image taken in the present, will have a new meaning in the future and will also re-frame the past because we view the past differently once we know what future it led to. For instance, when I was a kid my parents would recreate photos of myself in the same positions that there were photos of my dad and grandfather when they were kids. It creates this kind of dialogue of images over the years and also makes you realise again that life is a cycle and you too will age one day and maybe there will be another baby getting their photograph taken laying butt naked on a blanket.

The photograph was actually from my archive, it was taken in Kingston, NY. That’s another example of past and future reframing each other. I photographed that flower in passing on a peaceful sunny afternoon because it looked beautiful. There was no conscious intent to evoke any feelings of nostalgia or memories of my childhood or to speak about Ukraine specifically. But as time past, that image really grew to have a lot more meaning for me because it was reframed by the war. Although native to North America originally, the sunflowers really permeate Ukrainian existence. Visually, they punctuate the landscape and we would also consume copious amounts of sunflower seeds as a snack. The variety found there are these really oily seeds with thin black shells that are easy to break open. Grandmothers would be selling them in large bags in the farmers markets. When we were kids, if we didn’t have any change to buy them, we would just walk around the market and get small amounts to sample from each old lady selling them and fill our pockets like that.

It feels like life is a lot more connected than perhaps I realised. I found it really meaningful to be able to do something helpful for my community in Ukraine. I’ve lived in the United States for the past 17 years and in many ways before this war got started I saw my life as linear and more individualistic. Now, I feel like my life is a lot more circular and integrated, I realised that I’m a part of a larger historical community of people and that there’s a certain amount of responsibility that comes with that. I am not a fighter, but I try to find the ways in which I can help Ukraine and Ukrainian culture both now and in the long term.

Precisely, it’s meant to serve as a reminder that at some point violence and destruction felt as distant there as it may feel in the UK or US today. It was breaking my heart seeing all these images of war on social media and also realising that for many people that’s the only version of Ukraine they may have ever witnessed. That kind of imagery is important to document so people know what’s going on but it also normalises it. Now, when people think of Ukraine they will imagine bombed out buildings or people hiding in the basements, including those personal photos was meant to show that it’s not the norm and it wasn’t always like that and it shouldn’t be like that.

It is meant to remind people that even throughout death and destruction, the world is still wonderful and you can find moments full of love, beauty and hope. I love seeing all the images of Ukrainian fighters having tender moments with kittens and puppies they live with, this gentleness paired with war and horror.
Ultimately, life and beauty on this planet will remain and will exist, even if we are too busy fighting each other to notice it.

I think my biggest fear is becoming too callous and distracted with all the noise of society to notice how special this experience of living is. I want to continue feeling connected to life. I believe Picasso said, “It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child”. Well, I would like to continue practicing seeing the world like a child.