Currently on exhibit at 375 Beale Street in San Francisco
Prints are presented on 1/4 inch museum quality archival face mounted acrylic with dibond backing. 40 in. X 60 in. (102cm X 152cm). Limited editions of 5.
For purchase or commission inquiries: email@example.com or 415.867.0915
When I first learned of the existence of a trail that circumnavigates the San Francisco Bay, I imagined miles of shoreline trails lined by not much more than rocks and wetlands. The reality is that it is much more than that. It is as unpredictable and diverse as the communities it connects.
In 2013 I embarked on a journey to walk the San Francisco Bay Trail, sleeping at home each night and taking public transportation to and from my start and end points each day. I was on a set time schedule and shot hundreds of images on the fly, grabbing my camera when instinct told me I had an image worth capturing before continuing on. The images I captured over those 30 days were documentary as much as they were art.
Over the years since my trek, I dreamed of returning to the trail, but not with the idea of hiking to get from point to point but rather to settle in to one location and truly feel it. Not to document its existence but to create art that reflects the scene as I experienced it. Half-Light is the result of these return visits. The time when most of us are nestled in to the comforts of home is when I found the trail most alluring. While shooting the images for Half-Light, I often spent hours alone in the late evening or early morning, sitting behind the lens, letting the light do its magic. The resulting images mirror the experience of shooting them: a calm, meditative process that forced me to slow down, live in the moment and absorb my surroundings.
The intermittent squawks of birds awakening one by one along the Hayward shoreline, the pungent aroma of a skunk waddling silently along the shoreline path in Foster City, the barely audible scurry of a fox trotting across a brightly lit but otherwise vacant parking lot at the Dumbarton Bridge West Observation Point and the coarse barks of a coyote expressing their discontent at my presence at McNears Beach, unseen yet eerily close – these are the memories that cannot be captured in the lens but linger in my senses.