Picking Up the Pieces

I saw today

that you had made something


And I knew what it had cost you

that beauty.

Too much, almost,

for one person

to contain.

It was only yesterday 

that we wrote

of the dreary now of waiting —

of the waiting and

the wanting

to begin.

I’m trying to see 

the road to there 

from here.

I said.

Let’s leave now

you replied.

We’re better there.

For Lori
October 2018

Photo NOLA 2018

My first time at PhotoNola and it was so great! Got to spend time with some great people, see some wonderful work and share what I’ve been working on! 

Portfolio ready!

Portfolio ready!

The photo walk

The photo walk


Sharing my latest portfolio and some books


Recollections is a joint show between artist Diana Bloomfield and myself. Curated by Panopticon gallery directory Kat Kiernan, our work intersects around the essence of memory and a shared love for the natural world.

The reception is on Thursday November 8th in Boston, when Diana and myself will also both be giving an artist talk. You can sign up for the Facebook event here.


CMCA Biennial - November 3

Anneli Skaar and I are doing an installation piece entitled “A Part of The Maine” for this year’s CMCA biennial. The installation comprises a painted screen by Anneli together my photographs, curated in vintage frames behind it. It’s a culmination of a year long project and it is truly exciting to see it come to fruition.

For more info about the project and our journey, visit A Part of The Maine

2018 Biennial E-vite.jpg


Thank you to everyone who came out for to see the show this summer on North Haven. So thankful for the support from this amazing community and to my extraordinarily talented partner in crime Anneli Skaar! The work from the show is now up on the website too for those of you who missed it.

Pool Mornings

The woman to my right wears a pink swimming cap, goggles and big yellow flippers on her hands. They make me think of ducks and waddling, but she is smooth in the water, efficient and undaunted. The man on my right wears a weathered swim cap complete with stars and stripes,  faded and clearly past its prime.  As I make my way slowly past him, he pauses, looks at me a beat before turning.  I look away too, swimming on, gamely eyeing the clock and making promises.  When done, stars and stripes rises up exhaling, taking up space, expanding. He shakes the water from his body like an old bear after fishing in the river.  Flipper lady has done three lengths to my every one, miraculously I am undeterred.  For now this is my solace. It clears my head and I feel the fog of morning shifting, the dirty business of breakfast's chaotic squabbling recedes in my rear view. For now there is only cool water and rhythmic observation. 



Arms hug across our chests.
Like chilly birds we flap
to warm ourselves
against the wind
snapping at our faces.

Like an old lady
the ferry groans and shifts,
making her way across the bay,
begrudging and proud

We huddle on benches,
watery eyes squinting at the cold.
Like hardy parishioners,
embattled and determined

Across the bay
the island sleeps,
waiting out winter's
crisp embrace. 

We soldier on 
through the off-season —

tethered by
this crossing
of the sea.


The Easter Eggs

You had hidden the eggs.
Tiny orbs of sweetness
wrapped in shiny plastic
with silver twinkling
at the edges
blue and pink

You were so delighted when I found them.
Suddenly we were young again
and you had hidden them
just for me

That was us, then
promises wrapped in fancy paper
hidden and hard to find