It was a miracle I made it out of North Beach alive. It wasn't the cops or beatnik junkies who dropped the dime and set me on the run. No, it was that dish of a dame from the Palace Cafe who betrayed me. She’d sized me up for the reckless gambler I was and played me like a deck of marked cards. Her perfumed neck wreaked of double-cross and deception when she leaned in to light my cigarette with dark, slippery fingers and a hungry smile. And yet, the madness of love. Now, the Tupelo boys were on my heels. I sprinted up the rickety stairs of my apartment building two at a time. The phone was ringing like a brassy burglar alarm, but nothing good waited at the other end of that line. My hands shook; I badly needed a drink. The weight of the pistol in my pocket felt reassuring and inevitable.
Living With Dignity, Thriving in Community
An intimate look inside the YWCA's residence program in San Francisco's Chinatown.
Golden Gate Dreams
Images captured from along the Northern California coast.
Original photographs abstracted into new forms.
These photographs are made with little to no compositing. During post-production, I subtract rather than add to eliminate distraction and render focus on the soul of the image. The end result takes some inspiration from the ancient art of ukiyo-e (Japanese wood block prints) and the watercolors of Louis Macouillard.
Music of the people, by the people, for the people.
Candid street portraits explore an eternal mythology.