07/10/2025
Two years ago, I disappeared into the southwest desert on a solo road trip. It took me 11,000 miles over three months. I got lost in the landscape, the rocks, the sun, the sand, and the sky.
When my father died, photography became my refuge. My way to grieve and to feel sheltered in a world I didn't understand. After the Lahaina fires, I found photography coming back to me and guiding me through it again. It was in the desert where I fell back in love with it and found a deep sense of knowing that this was the healthiest way to be processing my pain.
Alone in the middle of the desert.
But I wasn't alone. I found beauty. In life, if the land, in the people who I shared time with, in an old tree, in a rainbow, in the shadows and in a landscape that was etched by time.
