Into the Fog (and Probably the Mud)
Southern California raised me, but let’s be real....it was never my vibe. Endless sun, dry heat, everything screaming at full volume. Too clean. Too sharp. Too fake. Every summer I got shipped up to the Pacific Northwest, and that’s where it actually felt alive. Fog swallowing mountains. Forests dripping with moss like they’d eat you if you stood still too long. Waterfalls that could drown out every stupid thought in my head. I knew even then: this place had claws, and one day I’d let it drag me back for good.
Now I’m here, and honestly? The PNW owns me.
Why I Shoot
I’m not out here making postcards. I don’t want “pretty.” I want atmosphere thick enough you could choke on it. I want storm clouds that look like the end of the world. I want forests so dark you’re not sure if you’re about to see Bigfoot or just your own regrets. My photos lean cinematic and moody because that’s how this place feels, it’s not here to make you comfortable, and neither am I.
Behind the Lens (and the Dog)
Most of the time it’s me, my Nikon, and Baloo....my 70-pound pitbull who thinks she’s a sled dog. She drags me into mud pits, photobombs waterfalls, and refuses to move when I actually need her out of the shot. Half the time I’m cursing at my gear, the other half I’m cursing at the weather. Fog will taunt you, rain will ruin you, and the light dies faster than my patience. And don’t even get me started on my printer....it’s basically a $1,100 paper shredder with Wi-Fi that never works.
What’s Coming
This blog won’t be some polished “influencer diary.” It’ll be messy. Expect behind-the-scenes chaos, gear experiments, trail disasters, Baloo being an absolute menace, and probably a few rants about technology trying to kill me. Also a lot of fog. Always fog.
