If someone really wants to use one of my photos, I can’t physically stop them — that’s the reality of the internet. I’m not a fan of watermarks, so you won’t see them across my images. But that doesn’t mean the photos are free to use. All of my work is copyrighted, and even without a watermark, it’s still traceable.

If you’d like to use one of my images for personal or educational purposes, I simply ask that you reach out and let me know. I’m usually happy to say yes — I just appreciate being asked.

I’ll just put it out there: Ansel Adams’ prints look nothing like the negatives used to create them. He was a master of the darkroom — the original version of Photoshop. I came from that world too. I photographed, developed, and printed my own work using chemicals, and I was the photo editor for my college newspaper and yearbook long before digital tools existed. 

All of that shaped how I think about editing. I’m not a fan of heavy manipulation or creating images that feel artificial. I went through a brief phase with the old, grungy HDR style, but I’ve moved past that. These days, I spend more time resisting the urge to over‑process than anything else — and I’ll admit, it’s still hard to step back and let an image breathe.

For me, editing is about refining the photograph, not reinventing it. I want the final image to feel true to the moment, even if it’s been thoughtfully shaped along the way.

I’m not actually a big “gallery” person, even though this website has one. For me, the story behind an image matters far more than simply filling a grid with photos. I choose images that have meaning — something I experienced, discovered, or connected with in a way that feels worth sharing.

I’m also a big believer in printing my work. Seeing a photograph as a physical print often tells me more about whether it deserves a place on the site than viewing it on a screen ever could. If an image holds up in print and still feels true to the moment, that’s usually when it earns its spot.

Absolutely — that’s one of the main reasons I created this website. I enjoy sharing the stories behind my photos, the locations I discover, and the planning that goes into each shoot. I also plan to launch a YouTube channel where I can talk more about my photography, walk through my process, and bring people along on my trips.

The GeoLog app I’m building is part of this as well. It’s designed for location planning, scouting, and documenting the places that inspire me. So you can expect plenty of behind‑the‑scenes content, planning articles, and YouTube posts as everything comes together.

Photography isn’t a job for me, so I don’t feel any pressure to constantly produce. That takes away the usual worries about motivation. My wife has a great way of describing the creative process: know the challenge, understand the challenge, and then wait for inspiration. I’ve found that to be true.

I’m also an avid cyclist and runner, which gives me plenty of time for that “wait for inspiration” stage. Ideas tend to show up naturally when I’m out moving, thinking, or simply letting my mind wander. Creativity comes more easily when there’s no deadline attached to it.

I have hundreds of photography books, and I return to many of them often. One of my favorites is Robert Hitchman’s Photograph America series — a fantastic collection of location guides that blend inspiration with practical insight. Art Wolfe is probably my favorite photographer; his sense of color, composition, and storytelling is unmatched. I also have many of Ansel Adams’ books, which continue to be timeless references. And I’ve always admired Galen Rowell, whose adventurous spirit shaped his photography. His life was tragically cut short during a night approach into Bishop Airport in California.

As for YouTube, I’m not drawn to gear‑focused channels. I prefer photographers who share their process — the thinking, the scouting, the mistakes, the creative decisions. Here are some of my favorites:

Thomas Heaton : A landscape photographer who brings viewers along on his hikes and location explorations. His videos focus on the experience of making a photograph, not just the final image.

Ben Horne: A large‑format film photographer known for his quiet, thoughtful approach. His work emphasizes patience, intention, and the craft of shooting 8×10 film in remote landscapes.

Gavin Hardcastle (PhotoTripper): A landscape photographer with a great sense of humor. He mixes solid instruction with playful storytelling — including his famous clip of slipping on the ice.

Nick Carver: A film photographer who dives deep into technique, exposure, and the discipline of shooting deliberately. His videos often explore the craft behind the image.

Peter McKinnon: A high‑energy creator who blends photography, filmmaking, and storytelling. He’s known for his cinematic style and ability to make creative concepts accessible.

Jason Kummerfeldt (grainydays): A film photographer with a dry, comedic style. His channel mixes genuine photographic insight with a laid‑back, humorous approach to shooting and exploring.

Yes, I do — but with limits. I’m not interested in replacing skies, adding objects, or creating fantastical scenes that never existed. That kind of manipulation doesn’t appeal to me.

I have used generative AI to remove things like a trash can and let the software fill in what was behind it. To me, that’s no different from what a painter might do to clean up a composition. I’m not a purist, and I’m not a photojournalist, so capturing a strictly “true” scene isn’t my goal.

For my work, removing distractions — trash, jet contrails, dust spots — is completely fair game. It helps the final image reflect the feeling I had when I took the photo, without the clutter that sometimes gets in the way.

I’m not sure I have any grand advice, but a few simple things have stayed true for me over the years.

First, the best camera for any scene is the one you have with you. Cell phones are real cameras — I’ve won first place in photo competitions with an image taken on a phone. Don’t underestimate what you can create with whatever is in your hand.

Second, take your time. Study your photos. Ask yourself what’s working, what isn’t, and how you might improve it. Revisit scenes after you’ve had time to reflect and learn; often the second or third visit produces the stronger photograph.

And finally, don’t get discouraged. When you see a beautiful photo book, it’s easy to imagine the photographer just “gets it right” every time. In reality, that book might represent 100,000 attempts distilled down to a few dozen images. Progress comes from showing up, shooting, and learning, not from perfection.

Most of my photography relies on natural light. I prefer to shoot at the camera’s base ISO — many of mine are rated at ISO 64 — because it gives the cleanest possible file. That said, I’ve learned to accept higher ISO settings when the situation calls for it. Sometimes the moment matters more than the noise.

I’m primarily a manual shooter and rarely use automatic modes. That doesn’t mean I avoid them entirely. For casual walk‑around sessions, I’ll often use Auto ISO, but with limits set so the camera never pushes the ISO higher than I’m comfortable with. It gives me a bit of flexibility while still keeping creative control.

I don’t rely on any one lens, and I prefer it that way. I let the scene dictate the lens, not the other way around. In fact, I stopped keeping a lens permanently attached to my camera specifically so I’m forced to pause and ask, “What lens does this moment really call for?”

That small habit keeps me intentional. It reminds me to respond to the scene in front of me rather than defaulting to whatever lens happens to be on the camera.