Ten years ago I came to Lake Como for the first time.  I knew right away that this place would provide me with the inspiration necessary to become the best, not only photographer, but artist I could be.   By artist, I mean, creator.  After all, scientifically speaking, the evolution of man progressed from animal to something more the moment we were able to create.  From the first cave drawings to sculpture to modern architecture, our true gift lies in our ability to observe, relate and communicate our thoughts and feelings.  I strive to do this positively in every action, from cooking to playing guitar and everything in between.  Regardless of my beliefs I am simply just grateful to be here and I try and demonstrate that by paying attention to the details.

I took my first photography class in third grade, not out of an interest in photography, but out of an interest in that one thing that inspires man above all things… love.  Of course, I was only in third grade and didn’t have an understanding of this concept.  I only knew that I had a crush on a girl and by joining, I had a chance to spend some time with her.  Little did I know then what a passion it would spark, but I do remember the feeling of watching that first print develop and the immediate change in perspective of the world that resulted.  For the first time I was aware of the details.

It wouldn’t be until high school that my interest in photography would be rekindled.  A friend of mine showed me pictures that he had taken and it looked like fun so I signed up.  The teacher, Mr. Rabold, would be more than just a photography teacher.  Probably unknowingly to him, he inspired my whole understanding and relation to the world.  We would take field trips to downtown denver where he would give us the freedom, which is so exciting at that time, to wander around and photograph whatever we wished.  I would put on my headphones jump on my skate board and wander aimlessly, becoming a part of the world.  Observing, thinking, wondering.  The thrill of photographing people in their environment, unaware of my presence was something that thrilled me.  The more I did it, the more I became aware of everything, every little detail.

I knew quickly that this is what I wanted to do with my life and at sixteen, waiting tables at a very upscale restaurant, I decided to explore the possibility of photography as a career.  I told my mother how much I hated cleaning and pressing my clothes each night before work and she simply said, “well, quit”.  So I did, however, being raised by a single mother I wasn’t in a position not to work.  If I was going to drive my car, have a cell phone, go out with friends I had to work.  She always stressed how important it was in life to do something you love above all else.  So I picked up the yellow pages and called every single listing under photography and photographer not skipping a detail.

I must have made over a hundred phone calls and not one would give me a chance.  I was dicouraged but did not give up.  Eventually I made a call to a man named Kermit Hayes who did not hesitate.  I told him of my interest and he said, “sure baby!  I’ll give you some work!  Come on over.”  With the help of Mr. Rabold I organized a little portfolio and with no idea of where I was going or who I was meeting I went.  I’ll never forget the look of joy on his face as he scrutinized me and my work.  There was no question we connected from the beginning and when Siddhartha fell out of my bag, which Mr. Rabold had recommended to me, that was the final detail.

It began simply, mopping the floors, painting the cove, sweeping, dusting, but from Kermit I learned the difference between doing work and doing art.  Every action began to take on new meaning.  There is an art to mopping a floor, there is an art in painting a cove, in sweeping, in dusting, in all things.  It only takes the ability to pay attention to the details.

It was then that my work began to move from observation into creation.  As I began to learn about the delicate beauty of light and shape.  Texture and composition.  Color and form.  Even time and space.  The world became an amazement.  Each and every detail.

During this time I was also studying philosophy, religion, politics, economics, psychology, music, et cetera in order to understand what I wanted to do with my life.  Brave New World, 1984, Fahrenheit 451, The Wealth of Nations, Communist Manifesto, Einstein’s dreams as well as countless photography books playing their part in forming a plan and as I entered college to study photography, trying very hard not to miss a detail.

During college I worked at FedEx.  It was an incredible experience as I was able to exercise another enormous passion by traveling on the cargo planes almost anywhere I could imagine.  I saw the Florida recount, the new millennium in Times Square, Haight-Ashbury, The Louvre, and eventually Lake Como.  The whole time with barely enough money to eat, sometimes not.  Sleeping in parks, parking garages, whatever I had to do.  My naivety and ambition being the key details necessary to make it possible.

After 9-11 the travel benefits were taken away.  I finished school at almost the exact same time and was ready to begin my true career.  I moved to LA since Lake Como was a dream that would have to wait.  My career began quickly as my first assignment was a cover shot.  The next ten years seem to have flown by as my commercial career began.  The details that I had always focused on seemed to somehow drift unknowingly away from me.

I moved from LA to AZ to NY and eventually back home to Denver for a short spell before coming to where I always thought I needed to be, here in Lake Como.  I know now why I’ve always been drawn to this place. For the first time in over ten years I’ve been able to pick up a camera and wander aimlessly as when I was sixteen.  No assignment, no goal, no deadline or client.  Just me, being, observing, creating and paying attention to the details.

I created these images the other day.  As I did so, I was consumed with the world.  Everything around me began to take on new meaning as if seeing the world for the first time thru new eyes.  I couldn’t stop seeing the details.

Faith, not in god or an afterlife, but in myself and in my life here and now, radiates.  It’s like a rubber band or a guitar string.  It comes and it goes.  Sometimes it’s most discouraging when I can’t seem to find it.  I think that I can find it now and gaze upon my existence with the same amount of wonder and excitement as a new born baby, when I am aware of the beautiful details.

I’ve reconnected with myself and my inspirations.  I recently ran across a passage in Henri Cartier-Bresson’s novel The Minds Eye, “Buddhism is neither a religion nor a philosophy, but a medium that consists in controlling the spirit in order to attain harmony and through compassion, to offer it to others.”  It is my aspiration above all else to spread the absolute joy that I have been able to find, and struggle at times to hold onto.  To anyone reading this, I will do anything within my limited means to help contribute to your continued growth and development if given the chance.  My home is yours, it is a detail, I hope worth paying attention to.