The Natural State in Four Seasons

I'm happy to announce that an exhibition of my work, titled "The Natural State in Four Seasons," is now on display at Laman Library in North Little Rock. The show contains 33 photographs taken across the varied landscapes of Arkansas over the last fourteen years.  Locations in the show include the Buffalo National River, Blanchard Springs and Hot Springs National Park. But there are also pictures from less visited locations, like an oxbow lake in the Delta or a waterfall deep in the Ozark Mountains.



There are many things that Artificial Intelligence is hurting, and one of those is the art of photography. True photography requires skill and patience, and the ability to be at the exact right place, at the exact right time, with the exact right conditions (along with a fair amount of luck). It is much more than fake images attempting to be a lame facsimile of reality. It is my hope that this exhibition showcases photography for the art form that it is, one that is under assault from those who see it as nothing but “content” to post on social media for us to see between ads and scams.



One of the photographs in the show is of the setting sun hitting the summit of Pinnacle Mountain, which makes it look as if Pinnacle Mountain is erupting. This photo was taken from Two Rivers Park Bridge, and there is only a brief period every year where the sun and mountain are perfectly aligned for this to occur. In order to get this picture, the horizon also has to be clear. Clouds in the sky can obscure the sun, even clouds that are hundreds of miles away.



Other photographs represent similar moments - a swirl of fallen leaves caught in a current below a waterfall. Thick fog reflecting the bright lights on the Clinton Park Bridge, turning the night sky into a deep shade of purple. The explosions of fireworks over the State Capitol Building, captured by the camera during a 1.6 second exposure. These images could have probably been much easier achieved through some Photoshop edits, or some prompts on AI. But the photographs on display at Laman Library represent real and decisive moments. Ones that I hope serve as a reminder of how powerful and important photography can be.



To view the other photos in the exhibition, please visit HERE.



The exhibition is open now, and I'd like to kindly invite anyone reading this to please head on down to Laman Library to check out the show (2801 Orange Street in North Little Rock, gallery is on the second floor). There will be an opening reception on Friday, Oct. 18th, from 6-8 PM. The show will be on display until November 27th.



Here is the Artist's Statement I put together for the show:

It was almost what you’d imagine hiking through a rainforest would be like, except we were still in Arkansas. A storm earlier that day had saturated the woods, turning the leaves into a deep green too vibrant to be real. Water puddled on the trail, which at times looked more like a small creek flowing through the woods. The only sounds were raindrops hitting the trees and the wet squishy sound of our hiking boots in the mud.

The trail was heading towards a waterfall as unique as its name - Fuzzybutt Falls. It is a delicate 16-foot-tall waterfall, sitting at the end of a short and narrow box canyon deep in the Ozark Mountains. It started to storm again when we arrived. The sounds of heavy rain, combined with the splash of the waterfall, created a cacophony of sound that echoed off the rocky canyon walls. But those canyon walls also provided shelter from the rain, allowing us to freely move about without worrying about getting soaked. We spent a lot of time there taking pictures, from just about every conceivable angle, reluctant to leave. Eventually we set the cameras down and just watched as the raindrops rippled across the creek, and the waterfall slowly and steadily increased its flow.



I know it sounds cliche, but sitting under those rocky bluffs while a storm raged on was a peaceful and sublime moment; one of those rare moments when things seem to perfectly converge, when you are at the right place at the exact right time you need to be there. The photographs in this exhibition are more than just snapshots. Each one represents a unique moment that I was lucky enough to capture with a camera. I’m humbled and grateful that you are here to see them.



Increasingly, it seems that photography is being devalued in our ultra-modern and overly-online world. Photographs are being reduced to nothing more than content on social media feeds, squeezed unceremoniously between ads and spam. But photography is much more than just a way to get likes and engagement. At its best, photography is a way to showcase and document the world and our times. To paraphrase a quote: We don’t just take photographs, we ask quietly to borrow a fraction of time. To preserve that fleeting moment, which would have otherwise floated on like raindrops hitting a creek.



These photographs were taken with either a Canon 6D or an Olympus E-30, between 2010 and 2024. They are the culmination of countless trips spent driving or hiking across the state, from the Delta to the Ozarks. I would like to thank Richard Theilig and everyone at Laman Library for hosting this exhibition. Also I would like to thank Matt Kennedy and Zack Andrews, my hiking and photography buddies, who accompanied me on many of these trips (including the one to Fuzzybutt), and who helped make sure I didn’t get lost in the woods or fall off a cliff.



And I cannot thank enough my wife Caroline for her encouragement and infinite patience. And also my sons Jonah and Elliott for all the times they’ve indulged their father stopping to take a picture of an old barn. I would never have been able to take these photographs, or put on this show, without their support.

Star Search

I saw on the news that there was another solar storm, which meant that there would be another chance to maybe see the northern lights again. Most of the predictions didn't really go as far south as Arkansas, but I thought I might head out just in case.

I decided to drive out to an abandoned church north of Conway. Jonah wanted to tag along, which was surprising since I didn't think standing next to an abandoned church in the dark in the middle of the country was an exciting activity for eight year olds. But we drove out there, and there were no northern lights, of course. But there were lots and lots of stars.



And even just a little bit of the Milky Way too.



Apparently, there was a little bit of Northern Lights in the sky last night, just barely visible in northern Arkansas. We were off by two days in our attempt, oh well. Better luck next time?

Markham Street

It was a rainy night when I headed out to downtown Little Rock to try to take a few pictures. I parked the car and walked along Markham Street, passing by the Pulaski County Courthouse.



The courthouse was built in 1914.



Down the road, I stopped to get a picture of the Old State House reflected in a rain puddle. Luckily I didn't drop the camera in the water...

Tony Hawk

Went outside the other day and was greeted by this hawk hanging out in our front yard. Luckily he(she?) was kind enough to wait around a few minutes for me to go and grab my camera and zoom lens. The hawk had found a squirrel for dinner (I'm guessing its the one that had gotten plump this summer eating all the food from our bird feeder).

Burns Park

I drove through Burns Park the other day, the first time I've been there since the park reopened after last year's tornado. The damage there was immense. The little Funland amusement park was completely destroyed. Many of the park's pavilions were damaged, along with the RV Park and the soccer fields. But the most notable change is the trees - or the lack of them. The tornado took down over 20,000 trees in just Burns Park alone. You can easily trace the path of the tornado through the park, following the long gash where it looks like the forest was mercilessly clear-cut.

But the tornado just narrowly missed a few of the park's most notable landmarks. The old pioneer cabin, built in the 1850s, was just outside the tornado's path.





Luckily a lot of the park's forest remain undamaged:





And the Burns Park covered bridge was undamaged by the storm as well.



Which is good, since all residents of North Little Rock are contractually obligated to get at least one portrait taken at either the Old Mill or the Burns Park covered bridge (I say as a native of Dogtown).





It'll be interesting to see how the park changes, as new growth replaces the lost trees and a new Funland is built.