Sometimes while moving through landscape I become aware of a kind of peripheral, emerging presence. There is a significance to this presence and I am compelled to seek it out or to be receptive to it, as if to engage it in some way.
Through the camera, then, landscape becomes something else, something animate and indeterminate, confronting me, at times, on the ground glass, seeing me, as if capable somehow of moving between perceived and perceiver. Woven in reciprocal dialogue with this presence as landscape, the potential for some reversibility takes form, such that I can become confused with it: the knower and the known. At times, the camera plays as conduit between seer and seen, where looking through the viewfinder is to be looked at through the lens.
In this subtle and shifting ground, landscape is ambiguous, sometimes reaching out, encroaching, and, at other times, becoming nearly imperceptible, empty, and out of reach.