About

I grew up in an idyllic village a few miles outside of Pittsburgh, PA when steel was king and kids were left to their own devices, which often meant roaming the streets in packs looking for enough kids to play pick-up football, turning over rocks and logs along the creek looking for salamanders, or trying to figure out how to make our own gunpowder from a bag of charcoal briquets, saltpeter and sulfur.

My mom—besides being a great mom—was a talented lyricist/poet and my father a terrific, well-known graphic designer. But instead of writing or drawing or painting, my creative DNA emerged in music as a teenager performing leads in everything from Jesus Christ Superstar to Handel's Messiah. In college, I almost majored in voice to become an opera singer, ended up graduating in geology, thought about med school, but landed at an ad agency. For over 25 years, I've been an executive, consultant, creative director and writer for marketing and design firms, schools, and start-ups.  I've worked with many photographers to create images for clientele from Fortune 500 companies to start-ups and non-profits.  But it wasn't until 2010 when my wife gave me my first Nikon DSLR that I began my real journey behind the lens as a photographer.

People ask, “What makes you take a shot?” I think it's when a scene moves me in some way; because of some inherent beauty, gesture or “it-ness,” as photographer, Jay Maisel might say. This can take many forms. It can be the light. It can be the color. It can be texture or form. It can be a “decisive moment” as Bresson defined it. It can be a serene setting or a disturbing one. It can be sad or humorous. It can be a hidden in a millimeter of detail or it can be revealed from horizon to horizon. It can be found in happiness and in suffering. In life and even death.

My photos are windows into life and the world as I know it and, hopefully, at times, a window into the lives of others and the worlds of other things.

You may not always see the same thing as I do, or be as moved by it as I am, but I hope you enjoy looking through my window.

A little About Me

I grew up in an idyllic village a few miles outside of Pittsburgh, PA when steel was king and kids were left to their own devices, which often meant roaming the streets in packs looking for enough kids to play pick-up football, turning over rocks and logs along the creek looking for salamanders, or trying to figure out how to make our own gunpowder from a bag of charcoal briquets, saltpeter and sulfur.

My mom—besides being a great mom—was a talented lyricist/poet and my father a terrific, well-known graphic designer. But instead of writing or drawing or painting, my creative DNA emerged in music as a teenager performing leads in everything from Jesus Christ Superstar to Handel's Messiah. In college, I almost majored in voice to become an opera singer, ended up graduating in geology, thought about med school, but landed at an ad agency. For over 25 years, I've been an executive, consultant, creative director and writer for marketing and design firms, schools, and start-ups.  I've worked with many photographers to create images for clientele from Fortune 500 companies to start-ups and non-profits.  But it wasn't until 2010 when my wife gave me my first Nikon DSLR that I began my real journey behind the lens as a photographer.

People ask, “What makes you take a shot?” I think it's when a scene moves me in some way; because of some inherent beauty, gesture or “it-ness,” as photographer, Jay Maisel might say. This can take many forms. It can be the light. It can be the color. It can be texture or form. It can be a “decisive moment” as Bresson defined it. It can be a serene setting or a disturbing one. It can be sad or humorous. It can be a hidden in a millimeter of detail or it can be revealed from horizon to horizon. It can be found in happiness and in suffering. In life and even death.

My photos are windows into life and the world as I know it and, hopefully, at times, a window into the lives of others and the worlds of other things.

You may not always see the same thing as I do, or be as moved by it as I am, but I hope you enjoy looking through my window.