2 October, 5:38-5:42 a.m.
On a gray sand beach, granite
Knees in the sand
Black spruce pond
Cold Dawn
Totally clear
Glass dust inhaled
For years on end
Killed Spinoza

16 October, 5:56-6:00 a.m.
In the field I sleep near
Knees in the grass
Cloudless up high
Haze down here
Very still
Drunk in the low crops
The moon has a halo

3 March, 6:04-6:05 p.m.

In the field I sleep near
Knees in the wet grass
Sarah beside sitting with
No mind to the wet grass
Leaning back on her hands 
She looks up slightly
She gives the color of the dim light a name
Bent by the air as it comes

17 March, 7:30-7:33 p.m.


18 March, 6:27-6:29 a.m.

7 April, 8:03-8:04 p.m.
Sarah showed me a book:
The field I sleep near held red pines
Which white settlers found, felled
Turned to tall-ship masts with sails
Choked the meadow down to dead crops and blue

13 April 5:39 a.m.

15 April 5:39 a.m.

In the field I sleep near
Knees in the grass
Warm enough to forget the air 
Swallows nest above my window 
Every time I open the pane and scare them it erodes me

29 April, 8:53–8:59 p.m.
In the field I sleep near
A fine powder pesticide
The farm trucks spit up
Killed most growing
Save the low flowers
In blue/violet crowds
I hope these survive us

10 May, 5:24 a.m.


4 November, 6:37-6:39 a.m.

4 November, 6:48-6:49 a.m.

1 December, 8:13 a.m.

13 January, 6:53 a.m.

8 March, 6:22–6:28 p.m.

These photographs show clear glass against white paper. They were made in the field outside the house where I live at the end of dusk and before dawn. As these exposures happen, the quality of light shifts, the sky grows gradually darker or brighter, clouds move, and sometimes I diffract and shape the light with my body, affecting shadows and reflections in the glass. Colors in these images come from ambient light. 

I aim to see how many differences, no matter how subtle, can be drawn from this single nearly featureless subject. I am interested in how sustained attention can affect the shape the world takes.

May 2023 – present