My love of photography started in the back seat of a 1978 Dodge Aspen, Canon Sureshot in hand, on whatever family vacation my mother had planned for that season. College didn't narrow things down — I sampled my way through Art History, Drama, Photography, and Fine Art as majors, and finished exactly none of them. I flunked every photography class I ever took. Every single one. Not because I didn't care — because there are rules to photography, and I have never once met a rule I didn't want to test the edges of.

That's more or less still how I work. I shoot with a Nikon D750 and whatever combination of lenses, filters, and body contortions gets me the shot a light meter would tell me not to take. Everything goes through Lightroom after, pushed and pulled until the color, contrast, and texture match what I “saw” at the start — a process no photography professor would sign off on, which is exactly how I like it.

Raising a daughter who grew up to study bees for a living pulled me even further into the small stuff — the tangle of a wing, rust working its way through steel, the parts of a flower nobody bothers to notice. That's where I live now: close-up, uninvited, looking for the thing everyone else has walked past.

My work has shown in festivals across the Midwest and galleries around Kansas City.

Commissions and licensing available.