Photography is a way of feeling, of touching, of loving. What you have caught on film is captured forever. 
It remembers little things, long after you have forgotten everything.  - Aaron Siskind 

    Peru, June 2014

This picture was taken at 6:00am right after I entered the site for Machu Picchu. I had awoken two hours earlier in order to climb up to the top to see the sunrise. The steps were steep, and the air about me darkness alone. The sound of my labored breathing and weary footsteps my only companions as I trekked to the top. I was greeted by the same darkness at the summit, but as if a concurrent reaction of my foot reaching the top step, the sky began to break. Hues of navy and blue broke across the dark sky, followed by purples and orange. The confluence of color started to burn as if their meeting had created spark that struck the sky ablaze, engulfing the surrounding mountainside in wildfire. 

Ember Stars
    Brazil, July 2014

This picture was take. Just after sunset atop of Surar loaf in Rio de Janeiro. As the light from the largest star began to diminish, the stars on the ground began to glow. Finery, like embers, they burned alighting the streets for those walking them to see until the light returned once more. 

Invisible Flames
    Ecuador, May 2014

This was a picture taken at the beginning of my rainforest trek through Ecuador. It was about 11am, standing over a cliff face up in the cloud forests near Quito. The way the wisps of mist kissed the mountaintops, and swirl about as if invisible flames were licking at at their feet made the entire view seem ethereal. Almost as if I has stepped into another plane of existance. 

   Italy, August 2014

I was walking through Milan's duomo, ducking around other tourist taking photos of every piece of art hung from the walls, when I noticed a little boy alone in the corner. I didn't see his parents, or anybody else for that matter around the table. He quietly lit a candle, and put his hands together. I wonder what he was praying for, with his eyes squeezed tightly. It could of been for his sick grandmother to get better, or just that he gets that new toy for his birthday for all I new. All I could see was the wish being made. 

Silent Bells
    Japan, September 2014

I was meandering through Tokyo one afternoon when I noticed a small shrine tucked away down a deserted alleyway. It was quiet. The type of quiet you hardly encounter in such a large city, but nevertheless it was still. I approached the alter, clanged the bell and clasped my hands in prayer. Perhaps among the silent reverberations of the ring, I may have actually been heard. Perhaps it was finally quiet enough to hear myself. 


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