Photography, like all seeing, is certainly about the surface of things. As much as I cannot stop taking photographs, I get frustrated at times at its inherent superficiality. I wrestle with being a spectator, a quiet shadow with lens aimed at the center stage. I wrestle with the voyeuristic—continually peering through lenses and windows—seeing into these intimate moments.
But surfaces also reveal what lies beneath, something even more intimate. It’s my joy to explore how the surface and the interiors are connected. The surface of water roils and shakes. It vibrates with waves of energy, perturbed and in motion. The fluid surface both veils the interior and reveals it. It is transient and paradoxical. It is energy and motion. It is both sensual and inanimate. Like the flickering of a flame, it demands to be seen more deeply, and so I continue to look.