I grew up in El Paso, Texas. That past life and this landscape both feel like alien territory now. It gets tougher every year, but I try to go back regularly to find the singular beauty that can only come from a place that has adapted to such inhospitable, unforgiving conditions.
After grad school, I set out on a 6-week, 6,000-mile journey across the American Southwest and northern Mexico. These observations were captured under the powerful thrall of the Western landscape—a strange, captivating force intertwined with notions of nation and empire, bravery and myth, history and fiction.
I'll be honest—photographing people terrifies me. The unpredictability and intimacy behind the "spontaneous impulse" to capture "decisive moments" hold little appeal for me. But I've recently pushed myself to step outside my comfort zone, to connect with people, and tell stories through images.
Charles Darwin once said, "The love for all living creatures is the most noble attribute of man." Having the opportunity to observe wild animals in their natural ecosystems—from the tropical rainforests of the Congo Basin to the Galápagos archipelago and the Serengeti savanna grasslands—have always been my most cherished trips.
I'm married to a professional traveler. Tagging along, I've seen the world in all its absurd beauty—and it's almost overwhelming. What fascinates me most is how humans have tried to control and navigate their place within the natural environment. Through my work, I've attempted to capture what that feels like.
