I have a confession to make—I am a romantic. Probably to my demise but none-the-less, I see things in a form of magic realism. And, my art tends to reflect as such. I would like to attribute this chronic illness with growing up in 80’s. Granted, I was a born at the beginning of the decade but I was a product of my surroundings. Indiana was more than a state. Breakfast was a club. And, I had dreams of the African desert drinking tea.
Now, some may say that I truly can’t remember this decade as much as I could the next but I had an older brother that I looked up to. What he did, I did. What he wore, I wore. What he watched or listened to, I did the same. So you can say the 80’s were my formative years inspired by my hero.
Fast forward some years, and I can’t help but create in a way that drips with romanticism and drops with mood much like the movies and bands I consumed. Truth-be-told, I love nothing more than pulling that same feeling out of my subjects.
Their ability to be vulnerable in front of the lens, I believe, produces a moment worth capturing.
A moment that embodies the spirit of both the artist and the subject.