My enthusiasm for making photographs comes from a real desire to save and share poignant moments found in the everyday—to highlight the weight and the wonder there is to be found in the ordinary. 

I like to wander along parade routes and third baselines, in cemeteries and airports, down Fifth Avenue and up overgrown rural roads.  I like the older couple sharing their diner menu, the handwritten note, and the brass of the marching band and the matching shine of the tongue of the boy who yawns as they pass.  It’s a practice made up of walking, and looking, and really caring about people and how they choose to move with time.

There’s a sadness inherent in the quietness of what I photograph; in the distance or in the loneliness or even in the complete remarkable loveliness. Because, to steal Virginia Woolf’s thoughts (as I do too often), that moment is, at once, “already the past.”