I thought I’d photograph the road during state mandated lockdowns and catch an empty America we’ve never seen before. I’d represent the times—a contested election, a pandemic, the west devouring itself out of guilt.

None of those images worked. I went from interstates and major cities to historic highways to backroads to my back yard. But how could I photograph flowers at a time like this?

I can’t say what’s accomplished here (and one shouldn’t put pen to paper in order to think). I find myself at the conclusion of this work as both subject and object, an offering of sorts.

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