If I had to choose one phrase that best describes my life and work, it would be this quote from the Sufi mystic, Jellaluddin Rumi, who said, "Let the beauty we love, be what we do."

I photograph what I love most in the world. The irony of modern life is that we all seem to be drowning in a flood of information and passive experience, while at the same time, dying of thirst for anything significant and authentic. At such times, it’s important to recall that far from the blaring lights of our consumer society, there is an ancient pre-existing world, a world made not of time clocks, "Reality TV" and shopping malls, but of bed rock, ice, snow, wind, and sunlit grass. This world with its revolving seasons and star-filled nights, its roots running back to the Pleistocene and beyond, is the true birthright of the human race. It is our one true home, where we evolved, and when we stumble across a remaining fragment, like a precious relic, we recognize it deep in our genes by an immediate sense of wonder, healing and peace.

I believe the role of all artists is to dig deep within their own experience and "render visible what lies beyond appearances," to discover the transcendental truths that lie hidden within the mundane. I read with amusement the statements of photographers who insist their work is a document of "reality," that "what you see here in this print, is what I saw in nature when I took the photograph." Let us leave attempts at accuracy and documentation for the engineers. I view photography, like any art form, as a medium of personal expression, a way to actively engage the mystery of the world. What is important for me as a photographer is to seek that remote and secret threshold where the spirit of place reveals itself to my creative vision.

In keeping with that philosophy, I use the finest tools available to express what I discover there. Honoring and respecting the perspective and techniques used by master artists of the past, does not preclude using the technology of today. On the contrary, rather than refute or invalidate the aesthetic of the traditional darkroom, modern cameras and digital technology merely expands the horizon of what is possible.

In the parlance of Zen, the images we create, their techniques and technology, are all merely "fingers pointing at the moon." Don’t mistake the finger for the moon. The real moon is out there. Waiting for us all. For me, the message in all true art, is the invitation to become more alive, more attentive and vital, the inspiration to go find the moon for ourselves.