top of page

SPRING 2026

New Releases

The collection grows with every expedition. New work, new editions — each image selected for the walls that will define a space.

SPRING 2026

After Harvest

The vines go quiet after harvest — stripped back, patient, waiting for another season to begin. There's something honest about a vineyard in winter, all structure and no pretense. This is California at rest.

After Harvest.jpg

SPRING 2026

Berkeley

I found this meadow above Berkeley on a morning when the wildflowers were at their absolute peak — lupine and paintbrush running alongside a mountain stream like something out of a dream. I stayed longer than I planned, which is usually how the best images happen. The light never got better than it was right then.

Berkeley.jpg

SPRING 2026

Broken Top Reflections

Central Oregon has a way of stopping you cold. The sky turned this shade of pink for about four minutes before it was gone, and the lake held every bit of it perfectly still. Some mornings the West gives you exactly what you came for.

Broken Top Reflections.jpg

SPRING 2026

Feeding Frenzy

Just before dark on the Salton Sea, thousands of birds lifted off the water at once — a moving wall of wings against a fading pink sky. I had seconds to react and one frame that worked. That's the deal you make with wildlife photography.

Feeding Frenzy.jpg

SPRING 2026

Kinzel

Kinzel Lake sits in the fog most mornings, the tree line doubled in the water below, everything perfectly still. I waited for the mist to lift just enough to reveal the reflection without losing the mystery. It never fully lifted — which turned out to be exactly right.

Kinzel.jpg

SPRING 2026

Launchpad

There's something about a dock extending into open water that feels like a question waiting to be answered. I shot this in black and white because color would have been a distraction — the geometry is the whole point. Where it leads is up to you.

Launchpad.jpg

SPRING 2026

Lavender Season

The Hood River Valley in July smells like the south of France and looks like nothing else in the Pacific Northwest. I positioned Mt. Hood at the end of the rows deliberately — the mountain frames the whole scene like a painting someone else already composed. I just had to show up.

Lavender Valley.jpg

SPRING 2026

Lights Over McDonald

Lake McDonald in Glacier National Park holds the Milky Way like a mirror on a windless night. I was alone on the shore at 2am, the colored rocks visible beneath the surface, the galaxy overhead. One of those nights that reminds you why you carry the heavy gear.

Lights Over McDonald.jpg

SPRING 2026

Long Way DowN

The water never stops moving in the Pacific Northwest — it finds every crack in the basalt and keeps going. I used a long exposure to smooth the cascade into something closer to what it felt like to stand there. Loud, constant, unstoppable.

Long Way Down.jpg

SPRING 2026

Mossbrae Falls

Mossbrae Falls in Northern California drops directly into the Sacramento River, hidden from the road, accessible only on foot along the rail line. Most people drive past it every day without knowing it exists. That felt worth documenting.

Mossbrae Falls.jpg

SPRING 2026

The Backyard

This is Wyoming at its most quietly extraordinary — a lone butte reflected in a still creek, golden grass in every direction, no one else around for miles. I called it The Backyard because that's exactly what it felt like. Someone's impossible backyard.

The Backyard.jpg

SPRING 2026

The Cellar

Deep in a Napa Valley winery, the barrels recede into darkness in perfect rows — oak and time doing their slow work. The smell alone is worth the visit. I was after the geometry, but what I got was patience made visible.

The Cellar.jpg

SPRING 2026

The Flame That Burns Twice As Bright

Peak aspen season in the Rockies lasts about two weeks if you're lucky. The trees turn this shade of impossible gold and then it's over — burned bright and gone. I've chased this light for years and it never stops feeling urgent.

The Flame that burns twice as bright (Burns Half as long).jpg

SPRING 2026

The Gateway

Underneath the Scripps Pier in La Jolla, the concrete columns frame the Pacific in perfect symmetry — a portal to open water. The long exposure turned the surf into silk. I've never seen another photographer frame it quite this way, which is usually a good sign.

The Gateway.jpg

SPRING 2026

Trillium

Trillium Lake sits at the base of Mt. Hood, and on a still morning the reflection is so perfect it's disorienting — you genuinely can't tell which way is up. The fog softens everything just enough to make it feel like a memory rather than a place. One of the most peaceful mornings I've spent behind a camera.

Trillium.jpg

SPRING 2026

Wonderland Reflection

The Wonderland Trail circles Mt. Rainier completely, and this lake sits along it like a secret the mountain keeps. Wildflowers, still water, the peak above — everything in frame at once. Some locations earn their names.

Wonderland Reflection.jpg
bottom of page