I’ve had a long journey with the camera.  I fell in love with the medium of photography on the eve of my adulthhood. I’ve had epiphanies in the darkroom and tears above the developer tray. I’ve been moved, so deeply, by others when the camera was present.
Every major chapter of my adult life has been accompanied by an effort to construct visual meaning from it.  My children, friends, clients, students, family, and neighborhood have all been my “subjects.”   My privilege, gender, and grief have been my constant themes.   The projects I’ve undertaken have held these concerns.
I’ve found that the artistic practice has helped me bridge the gap between the inside and the outside. It’s afforded me the opportunity to interpret what’s visible--personality, gender, economic class or race—in my idiosyncratic, less visible, way.  It’s given me the chance to connect to real people and real communities beyond their usual signifiers.  It’s afforded me the opportunity to reflect on the extent to which I’m complicit in supporting or undercutting stereotypes.  It given me the chance to keep tabs on my progress (or lack thereof) as a human being.
I stand in deep gratitude for the artistic practice because I believe we all have symphonies inside, and the practice lets us pull notes out of ourselves and present them to the world.  It's helps make the invisible, visible, and in so doing, give strength to those quiet, beautiful songs in each of us.