Please tell us about the making of the cover image.
This image is from a series called Age of Blossoms — derived from the original title of the Wong Kar-wai film In the Mood for Love. It’s referencing the flowery years of youth, when love first blooms and everything is sublime, until it inevitably withers. The series is a rather subconscious reaction to witnessing my first real love withering on the vine. My partner at the time was asleep, and a cold winter sunset rested on the covers. It felt like a fitting moment to capture; the sun was there but the warmth wasn’t.
For each new project, are you driven first by concept or does your concept evolve in hindsight?
I very rarely start out with a solid plan, or really even a basic idea of what I may be doing. I find I photograph more freely in reaction to what I feel. I follow the urge to make an image, and months later I can look back at a body of work with sober eyes and the message or ultimate point comes through in it. If it’s good, that is.
Name some influences on your work from mediums other than photography.
I think photography has more in common with writing than any other visual medium, so writing is a huge influence for me. Paul Bowles and Fitzgerald are likely my two biggest influences. As an enormous art history buff, I constantly look to the paintings of Ingres, Courbet, Sargent, Whistler, the Dutch Masters... the list goes on. Also, I draw a lot from jazz. It’s so emotive and expressive — I can only hope my work nears that kind of expression.
When you feel uninspired, what might you read for guidance and motivation?
Despite my best intentions to read new things, I always find myself picking up a Paul Bowles book when I’m in a real rut. The way Bowles describes so chillingly and lyrically how we are at the mercy of the universe despite our best-laid plans feeds a lot into how I capture the world through a lens. Everything is normal — but could go askew at the slightest touch.
How do you know when a project is finished?
I never do. For me, a project is over when I’ve agonized over editing it for roughly three months, refused to acknowledge it for one month, and then settled for what it is at that moment. Saying something is truly, wholly finished is impossible for me. I’m at peace with that.
This image is from a series called Age of Blossoms — derived from the original title of the Wong Kar-wai film In the Mood for Love. It’s referencing the flowery years of youth, when love first blooms and everything is sublime, until it inevitably withers. The series is a rather subconscious reaction to witnessing my first real love withering on the vine. My partner at the time was asleep, and a cold winter sunset rested on the covers. It felt like a fitting moment to capture; the sun was there but the warmth wasn’t.
For each new project, are you driven first by concept or does your concept evolve in hindsight?
I very rarely start out with a solid plan, or really even a basic idea of what I may be doing. I find I photograph more freely in reaction to what I feel. I follow the urge to make an image, and months later I can look back at a body of work with sober eyes and the message or ultimate point comes through in it. If it’s good, that is.
Name some influences on your work from mediums other than photography.
I think photography has more in common with writing than any other visual medium, so writing is a huge influence for me. Paul Bowles and Fitzgerald are likely my two biggest influences. As an enormous art history buff, I constantly look to the paintings of Ingres, Courbet, Sargent, Whistler, the Dutch Masters... the list goes on. Also, I draw a lot from jazz. It’s so emotive and expressive — I can only hope my work nears that kind of expression.
When you feel uninspired, what might you read for guidance and motivation?
Despite my best intentions to read new things, I always find myself picking up a Paul Bowles book when I’m in a real rut. The way Bowles describes so chillingly and lyrically how we are at the mercy of the universe despite our best-laid plans feeds a lot into how I capture the world through a lens. Everything is normal — but could go askew at the slightest touch.
How do you know when a project is finished?
I never do. For me, a project is over when I’ve agonized over editing it for roughly three months, refused to acknowledge it for one month, and then settled for what it is at that moment. Saying something is truly, wholly finished is impossible for me. I’m at peace with that.