Three deaths came in quick succession this year, close enough together to feel like one long passing. Two of them sent me back to my rural Pennsylvania home - to the dead I could never see enough of, and to the half-remembered living I hadn't seen in forty years. So much had changed; so much remains the same.
I found myself not just mourning the dead, but tumbling through a storm of memory - misremembered stories and tangled connections. I wandered the wooded boyhood trails of Hibernia, where summer light fell familiar through the trees and the Brandywine Creek still carried its patient song. The past drifted alongside me, asking to be seen. Back in California, the mood lingers, a quiet echo reminding me to give thanks and hold my loved ones a little closer.
These photographs, made mostly between July and October 2025, summon ghosts and small resurrections alike - fragments of a season when loss reveals its own strange grace.
Peace
Postcards for the Dead
Honor Guard
Tracker
Lucky Strikes
The Amish Field Behind My Father's House
Mansion On the Hill
We Can't Outrun Our Shadows
The Edge of Town (Drive Our Future)
The Last Drag
This Used To Be a Dairy Queen
Tunnel Visions
Stalker
We've Left a Light On For You
Reach for Me
Rebirth
Honey is Home
First Date (A Fountain of Youth)
Making the Connection
The Tactile Pleasures of Hard Copy
Anticipation
I Dream of Angels
Ghosts In Hibernia Chapel
