About & Stuff

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Yeah, the cute little devil waving at you is me . . . well, it was me a while ago . . . okay, decades ago. Anyway, it's apparently good practice to introduce folks to the photographer whose work they're looking at and possibly even considering buying. Probably a bad idea in my case but it's what this page is about. (See what I did there?) Links at page bottom will take you to some additional sort of blog-ish material -- mostly dealing with photography and life. And just to be safe, I'm invoking the hierarchy of denial in advance: I wasn't there, it wasn't me, it wasn't my fault, and you can't prove anything anyway.

Who I Am

A photographer of indeterminate but advancing age, split between the central Illinois towns of Macomb and Jacksonville. Have also been a university professor, bartender, canoe guide and rock climbing instructor, building manager, hospital data manager, assembly line worker, and soldier. Generally not at the same time, however.

Landscape photography is my main interest. We are so busy destroying the natural world that I am driven to record what I can of it while something still remains. I have secondary interests in buildings and architecture, and in associated objects of our built and domestic environments. Portraits, graduations, birthdays, engagements and weddings I happily leave to souls much braver than I. The only funeral I will ever shoot is my own.

How I Got This Way

In the eyes of all, or at least of all those who didn’t really know me, I was an adorable child. My parents , on the other hand, seemed to harbor quiet doubts. I collided with photography . . . did I mention that collisions are a major recurring theme in my life? No? My bad. Moving on, I collided with photography (more precisely, the collision was between my father's right hand and my rear end, but let's overlook that) one long-ago day when I noticed an intriguing small brown plastic device on my father’s home work table. It had a cyclopean front glass eye, a white knob that turned, a button that pushed, and an eyepiece on the back. Certainly this was not meant for inquisitive young hands, specifically my always cheerfully inquisitive young hands that were not about to be deterred. That Brownie 127 became the first in a series of cameras that suffered damage my parents insisted was linked to my regular presence at the scene of the crime. Hoping to prevent further destruction and perhaps even instill a sense of responsibility, Mom and Dad eventually allowed me to acquire an inexpensive camera when I was eleven years old. They came near to achieving one of their goalsI (not the one about responsibility), but they also did something much more important. They stirred a passion, for cameras have been in my life ever since.

**Riffs and rants**

On life, photography, and whatever else comes to my minds

Does It Matter If Photography Is an Art? (A mini-rant)

Learning Photography: A tale of a photographer & his gear

Current Equipment List

Photographers Have GAS Problems

On Getting to Seventy