I surrender when I make an image.

It is like stalking a dream.

Pursuing an instinct as fragile as a flying ember.

Hoping that it might kindle into something luminous and amazing.

This feeling only comes if I stand receptive.

Waiting, by a wind blown tree, a wave smashed beach, a vigorous mountain stream.

I want to pull everything in the world through my lens.

I want to paint with the sun, at a 186 thousand miles a second.

To transform souls, with light - water - air, the ultimate blessings of life.

To make our eyes dance and celebrate nature as as visual symphony.

I have no defined target except to break my orthodoxy and discover trust.

Hard to learn that trust.

When my breath stutters, when my heart hurts, in that good way, like love.

I give up consciousness, my arms glide, my finger pulses…

I free the shutter on my camera.

Inches from an arcing koi, a throbbing stream, a wave crest exploding, a tree passionately embracing the sky.

All my life I have wanted to cast spells with a camera.

I never expected by letting go — the images would find me.