I’m still looking trees and thinking about perspective

Here in the middle of towering steel is another aperture

Winter light is fabulous for photography.

Today, the trees are dappled and colorful.

I’ve been looking at the trees. Almost everywhere around us, they are familiar, even common, and at the same time endlessly new and different

The Met’s Becher exhibit a couple years ago still has me thinking about the dependencies among technical aspects of photography and realized vision    

They run as far as my eye can see, these grasses in Sweet Grass County.

It's magnificent. A not-quite-straight pole of juniper

What carries down this hall, the din of distant past and trace of last night

It’s a no-no, turning the lens directly into the sun

It started, as it does every year, with the buds at the tips of low branches

A young woman was telling me recently about sound: recording it, editing it, using it to tell a story. While silent, photographs can evoke sound

Morning at the bottom of the Grand Canyon, today with torrents of water and the desert blooming

Back to the sea, with its open bound of water and far horizon

Another aperture, this oculus. It is as simple as a hole and as infinitely complex as the shapes and colors of day, night and weather that it projects inside

So well defined by the incomparable Diana Walker

I look at this photo and see one of my grandmother’s paintings of this same ocean. Familiar water and dunes, and yet every day a distinct place and feeling

What better than a room lined in books, bindings and covers of different colors, worn by hands and sun…

A single image can make me think of so much

A moment between day and night, belying the winds and transition