The images emerged from long, unhurried walks, part pilgrimage, part listening practice. Along these journeys I made photographs on film and digitally, then returned to the studio to build small, temporary altars in homage to what I encountered. Some prints are housed in shadow boxes alongside plants, stones, and fragments of manmade materials that masquerade as “natural,” gathered from the walks and from rummage bins.

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The work asks for slowness. What do we pass each day without noticing? How long do these objects live alongside us, and what do they take from or offer to the places they inhabit? Many of the sites I photograph have endured for centuries, yet now face fire, flood, and rising heat intensified by climate change.

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My approach is to arrive with each step, listen intently, and meet each place with care. I draw on ways of knowing that center reciprocity and kinship with land and water. The camera becomes a tool for pausing at thresholds.

Within each image and altar, past and present converge. 

 

Thresholds invites viewers to move slowly, to sit with what is living and what is made, and to consider how attention and care might help repair our shared ground. It is a return to the primordial through enchanted pathways. Guided by an animist ethos, the work honors the sacredness and sentience of elemental matter, holding reverence for Indigenous knowledge systems across the world. Seen with care, the images become numinous and permeable, cloaked in an uncanny aura that gestures toward awe and the sublime.

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Through them, the distance to the deep ancestral past begins to dissolve.