Impermanence
My love for the fleeting, abundant beauty of existence.
I am in relationship with the Cosmos. It feels like—look at what we created together… right place, right time—the Universe offering light, me offering presence, and the photographs born from our attention to each other.
Aldous Huxley wrote about cleansing the doors of perception, how everything reveals its infinite nature when we truly see. Photography is my practice of that seeing. Light vanishing in seconds but opening a door into something infinite.
Every photograph in this series was made in Barbados, in Sandy Lane—the beach, my home, my whole world there. My parents brought me to that water when I was one month old, December 1999. My grandmother planted the baby palm trees on that beach. I have been returning ever since. These photographs are from 2011–2021, the same places, across a decade, always different, always themselves.
Once, doing exactly this—just sitting with a sunset the way I always do—I was given the green flash. I didn't seek it. It arrived. We aligned.
When I return to these photos, I feel that same awe, time slowing, being held by beauty. Even knowing everything will fade, photography lets these moments linger a little longer.
This is my way of staying in conversation with the Universe. Every photograph, every moment of wonder—noticed, savored, fallen in love with, again and again.
The moments are impermanent. The awe is eternal.
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Made with Nikon D7000, Fujifilm X100V, and Pentax K1000.