Beyond Comparison

Art isn’t competition.
It’s interpretation.

I’ve never believed one artist’s work could truly exist in the shadow of another’s. Each of us sees differently, shaped by where we’ve been and how we move through the world. That’s what makes this pursuit meaningful — not the goal of being better, but of being true.

When I photograph the streets and coastlines of St. Augustine, I’m not thinking about how a shot might measure up to anyone else’s. I’m thinking about the light shifting across a quiet street, the tide tracing its way back over the sand, the way stillness can say more than motion ever could. These moments ask to be noticed, not owned.

The same discipline that guided me through earlier chapters of life now guides how I see — patient, deliberate, aware. But the craft of fine-art photography asks something softer of me too: humility. It’s a reminder that no matter how skilled or prepared you are, the world will always reveal something you didn’t plan for. And when it does, the best thing you can do is recognize it.

I don’t make photographs to compete. I make them to connect — to invite someone else into that fleeting instant where everything felt balanced, even if just for a second. Because when art is made honestly, it doesn’t need to outshine anything else.
It simply needs to resonate.