Passage

Passage is a collection of photographs made during the fleeting minutes around sunrise and sunset in the American West. Each image captures the brief interval when the land is illuminated not by direct sunlight, but by its last, scattered traces. In this soft light, forms lose their sharpness, colors deepen, and the boundary between night and day grows thin. The work reflects a fascination with these fragile moments, when time seems to slow and beauty reveals itself only for an instant.


Pale Basin

Gleaming white stone pillars and mounds rise from the earth, shaped over eons by wind, sun, and rain. The land feels pale, indifferent, and unfamiliar, a place in constant flux, slowly sculpting itself through time. No maps chart its boundaries, and no human hand has shaped its forms. These photographs capture a remote and little-known corner of the American West, where the forces of nature continue their patient work.


Lithic

Geological sculptures photographed at twilight, scattered across the desert floor of northern New Mexico. This series explores how these unusual formations emerge, and how order can be found within the seeming chaos of erosion and decay. My fascination with this landscape echoes the others I am drawn to. Remote, desolate, and silent, yet filled with extraordinary color and form. These images are part of an ongoing project that examines the quiet endurance and mystery of the land.


Drift

Rolling mounds of white gypsum, remnants of an ancient sea, absorb and scatter the sun’s intensity, transforming the desert floor into a vast and ever-shifting mirror. Over the course of a day, the dunes modulate in tone and atmosphere, moving from crisp whites to pale yellows, deepening into searing reds and oranges, before softening again into delicate blues and purples. These photographs embrace that transience, distilling the land into elemental forms of line, shadow, and color.


Sanctum

Deep within a remote canyon known mostly to the Navajo people of the western United States, a hidden architecture rises. Light moves slowly through the valley, revealing sculpted spires and stratified walls, carved by millions of years of wind, rain, and decay. This is not public land. It is a sacred place, held by the sovereignty of the tribe, and photographed with their permission.


Apollo

In the high desert of Utah, beneath a sun-drenched sky, the ground and geology breaks, folds, and erodes; creating new shapes, patterns and forms, seemingly by design. The land resembles a moonscape, stark and indifferent, removed from the modern world. Here, it is easy to imagine orbiting, descending, and stepping onto the surface of another planet.


Currents

In Iceland’s coastal estuaries, glacial rivers meet the sea, carrying minerals, silt, and light across wide tidal flats and shifting sandbars. Where fresh water blends with salt, overlapping patterns of color emerge, visible most clearly from above.


Keeler

Once a settlement on the shores of a living lake, Keeler is now a dry and empty basin. Weathered homes, scattered possessions, and traces of lives long departed remain. Here, human ambition, capitalism, and the forces of nature meet in uneasy balance. These photographs document what is left of the town after its unintended environmental and economic collapse, following the construction of the Los Angeles aqueduct.


Highlands

In summer, snow and ice recede from Iceland’s mountainous interior, revealing vast fields of volcanic ash, basalt mountains, soft green moss, and estuaries of melted glacial water flowing towards the open sea. Sunlight is ever-present, dimming only for a couple of hours around midnight. The images in this series were captured on the ground and high above in the air.