I remember as a young teenager seeing the first photograph ever made.  The year was 1827, the photographer Joseph Niepce, and the shadowy image taken over an eight-hour period, that of a barn and tree.  I was, and still am, captured by the idea that light and time could be frozen – in essence, stopped in their tracks.  Captured, that what I was seeing was as it was over 150 years ago.  I became a photographer.

Then I was a thirteen-year-old student at Hadley Junior High, facing the same growing pains as all my peers.  Now it’s private practice Internal Medicine, assistant clinical professor, University of Kansas School of Medicine.  Then it was a 35mm Pentax with a 50mm lens and black and white 100 ASA film supplied by one of the local newspaper photographers.  Now the equipment is digital and the lenses come in different sizes and shapes.  But in the end the result is the same: an artist chasing light, attempting to freeze time through the magic of the lens.

There is something of the amazing in things natural.  The passing of time reflected in the quiet waters of a gentile stream.  The infinite prairie wind.  The transient blossom of a columbine in the Rocky Mountains.  Light revealed in a sunset over the Amazon or through the ice of winter.  If we listen and watch with our heart and soul, the natural world screams out truth and reveals the existence of a Creator.  Nature is ever new, always leaves something to be discovered, never totally reveals itself – but always is measured in light and time.

This then is the philosophy behind my art.  It is an attempt to capture the wonder of the world around us and its interaction with mankind.  Time arrested.  Light captured.  The natural world revealed.