Photography for me is not looking, it’s feeling. If you can’t feel what you’re looking at, then you’re never going to get others to feel anything when they look at your pictures.”

I was always told that great photography makes even the dullest site more beautiful. When I began taking pictures of my newly built house, I couldn’t help but feel the character lines I was carefully crafting in the bone white walls of the otherwise bland bedroom A decided to take a nap in. I remember trying to bring some color into the otherwise drab gray walls, and from the instant I turned the first bulbous lens to screen capture, I knew there and then, white doesn’t stand out. I had to see how everything would read…the way the dirty carpet looked with the peach-colored walls; how the unruly beard looked with the clean-shaven cheekbones; how the vestigial blue-black infrequent shirt seemed strangely appropriate with the stark black doors and floor.

There was a lot going on in my head. I was picturing the kind of person who creates pictures, a person who looks better in pictures than most people will in person. I can, and do. But, in order to get others to agree with you, the image on the screen must be a 2D representation of the 3D material that exists in the photographer’s mind. I thought. Then, I started taking pictures, and before I knew it, the world as I knew it existed no longer existed: feelings, emotions, beliefs, and intentions appear in pictures. And the entire experience was switched from looking to feeling.