Calm Before the Storm

After a long day of road tripping with my friends, I arrived in Yosemite just in time to see a low sun and fluffy clouds through the sky foreshadowing a colorful sunset. We immediately left our campground to go back into the valley and got there just in time. I jumped in the calm Merced River water barefoot and rolled up my shorts awaiting the sky to light up. Soon enough, it did, and I felt a wave of calmness while creating this photo. The next day, a thick cloud cover rolled in, light rain began to pour, and a large fire was started. Yosemite Valley was closed down and though I was not happy about the fire, I was glad that I made it into the valley during my stay (2014).

Seagull's Landing

I’ve been spending too much time thinking about how I’m going to become “successful” as an artist. Though the photos I’ve been recently taking captured beautiful things, they held little meaning to me and failed to provide me with that intimate connection to nature that made me fall in love with the art in the first place. I finally caught a glimpse of meaning again along the same Southern California coast I have known my entire life. After arriving to this location with my friends, I was immediately drawn to this island out of reach, and I scrambled down the rocks to chase it. As I stood on the ledge before it, I felt the contrast of the cool winter water and warm setting sunlight. I felt the light breaking through the gray clouds, energizing and highlighting everything it touched. I felt the harsh crashing waves dissipate into a refreshing mist that gently glazed my skin. I was lost in the moment. The racing anxieties and worries that can occupy my brain all vacated to the point where I was no longer thinking, just experiencing. The photo makes me reflect on where I’m at in my journey as an artist. I find myself looking ahead to the out of reach, idealized future, concerning myself with logistics, and sometimes neglecting the beauty of the present. But as I took this photo, I basked in the warmth of the present, embraced head-on the turbulent uncertainty of the future, and accepted that there was a greater plan ahead of me. Letting go of my thoughts, I was rewarded with peace and a connection to the landscape around me. I hope that I keep doing what I love rather than worrying about the how. I hope I focus more on feeling than on thinking. Title dedicated to my friend “Seagull” who introduced me to this location.

Palace Archway

Having grown up and spent most of my life in Southern California, I have developed a fondness for the ocean. With my passion for photography growing immensely over the last four years, I was determined to walk away with a single photo that captured the beauty of my home in Orange County. This hidden little cove has shaped some of my fondest memories; I've led my closest friends through the little sea cave, I've laid a blanket next to rocks while enjoying sound of the tide, and I've swam out to the arch rock and cliff jumped into the ocean (with one such excursion leaving a scar on my foot). I had to create a unique photo here. After returning many more times with this cave composition in mind, the lighting and tide conditions finally lined up and I walked away with this permanent memory (2015).

Snakeskin

Stumbled across this little gem the other weekend during a midday hike in Sequoia NP.

Eagle's Nest

Foggy beaches, forests, and wildlife. Three of the many things that make the Oregon Coast feel like home. These trees were home to many Golden and Bald Eagles that we spotted on this morning - this guy was just the most photogenic. Taken in 2018 in the company of close friends. Traveling alone sometimes yields the best photographic results for me, but traveling with friends leads to the best stories.

Sea Brew

Los Angeles, 2018 Spent some time getting up close and personal with the ocean this World Oceans Day. So thankful I live close to the sea. PS - Two things I like very much are beer and the beach. But I do NOT like beer cans and bottles all over the beach. Let's try to pick that garbage up next time we see it and #LeaveItBetter.

Italian Dolomites, 2017

Sword in the Stone

Italian Dolomites, 2017

Hiraeth

It's always exciting watching the landscape transform into a luscious state of green as Spring approaches. Even though last Spring was one of the greenest Springs in my memory, it was this scene of fiery red that still sticks with me most. This image presented itself during a backpacking trip on Catalina Island. After a spontaneous near 20-mile hike on our first day, we were rewarded with the appearance of a huge wild bison heard just as the sky began was set ablaze. This bison in particular stood out as one of the largest of the herd yet seemed so gentle as he gazed longingly over the rolling green hills towards the coast. The American bison is a non-native species of Catalina Island that was originally brought to the island for a movie filming in 1972. After the filming concluded, the bison remained and the Catalina Island Conservancy has since worked to maintain a healthy bison population while also maintaining the health of the island. It is expected that this year will be the first time in 5 years that the island will see bison calves born. Nearly every time I go to my local beach I can look out at Catalina Island. It's cool to think that maybe this guy is looking back.

Death Valley Textures

Eye of the Storm

Death Valley, 2018

The Calling

Havasupai, 2018

Leaves on Black

Local, 2018

Heartbeat

Attempting to find a fresh scene rather the usual sunset on my college campus, I decided to head to the local Will Rogers State Beach. Even though my camera and I always end up getting soaked and my tripod full of sand, seascapes are gradually becoming my favorite subject to photograph. There’s nothing that makes me feel more connected to a scene than standing in the powerful ocean tides, feeling the spray of crashing waves, and absorbing the warm sunlight. This shot was especially fun and challenging for me to photograph because it was high tide and there were no interesting rocks or sea stacks at this beach that I could use as a subject. Instead, I had to experiment with long exposures and work with only water motion to create a compelling image. After carefully observing the patterns of the tide, I eventually captured this heart-shaped pattern in the waves which I thought made for some nice symmetry with sky and completed the photo. I processed the photo by cooling the temperature of the ocean and warming the temperature of the exploding red sky. I emphasized the contrasts of both color and shape in the composition, and was reminded of a human heart. The powerful Los Angeles coast pumped deep red clouds and cool blue water around me as I stood in awe of nature's beauty.

Diagonals

South Orange County in very close proximity to Reata Glen.

Man on the Moon

Havasupai Reservation, 2018

Local Natives

Rainy days don't happen too often in Orange County, so when I felt the rain start to pour (OC pour = light drizzle) last week, I walked out to a local hill and watched as the beauty unfolded around me, double rainbow and all. I ended up loving the atmosphere created by the backlit mist as the sun sank low, so I slapped on my telephoto and photographed some native trees catching the light. This scene really opened up my eyes to the beauty that can be found right within my community (which I always felt was too developed to experience any nature in). PS those little streaks through the image are raindrops :)

Alloy

Southern California Coast, 2017 A big part of my photography involves developing a relationship with a place before making an image about it. For me this includes visiting the place over and over again, observing how the light reacts with the landscape throughout different times of the year, exploring beyond the obvious and studying all the little details the place offers, and oftentimes just enjoying its beauty without needing to take a photo. This requirement for some kind of relationship with a place is oftentimes also what hinders me in creating an image I like when visiting a beautiful place for the first time - it takes time for me to understand and learn about the stories a place has to offer. This photo comes from one of those places that I feel I have a strong relationship with and have visited countless times over the years. And no matter how many times I go, it continues to offer me hidden treasures.

Great Escape

A new take of a very familiar location.

Never Break - Montana, 2015

Though I didn’t fully realize the potential of this photo when I captured it, the memory of discovering this alluring little scene always stuck with me. As I looked back at the unprocessed image recently, its significance finally started to present itself and the original vision I had for it became clear. After sitting on it for so long, I feel that now is an appropriate time to release it. In all of my art, I strive to express something unique of myself. Sometimes this expression is verbalized and sometimes I just let the image do the talking. This one speaks a great deal to me and I hope it has something to say to others as well.

Dolomites, 2017

Looked Like Giants

Every landscape photographer (including me) has a story of how they rushed and scrambled and set up their gear just in time to get the perfect shot of some fleeting beautiful moment. While this is sometimes the case in making an image, I find that my most meaningful creations come from exploration, studying, patience, and deliberate composition. The summer weather in the Italian Dolomites, although less than ideal for the casual hiker, is perfect for a photographer. Rather than feeling than need to frantically chase colorful light during the "magical" hours, you can watch the storm clouds come and go all through the day as they shroud the mountain peaks and then reveal them in all their glory. Many of the photos I took came from sitting and patiently watching the weather change the mountains, regardless of the time of day or color in the sky. There was never a rush or stress to the photo-making, just contemplation and relaxation.

Fairyland Falls

Layers

Cook's Toilet Bowl

Since I was a little kid, I have visited this part of Oregon to see my grandparents. I have many memories of visiting the blowholes of Cape Perpetua, exploring the tide-pools, and eating hotdogs from the local coffee stand. In recent years, "Thor's Well" has become a popular spot for tourists, however I had never really paid attention to it until this summer; the other blowholes of Devil's Churn were always more interesting to me. Kylene from the local coffee stand told us that she had always referred to this since childhood as "Cook's Toilet Bowl" as it looked more like a giant toilet in the area that Captain Cook had once explored. Still, for a toilet bowl, it is a beautiful scene located in one of my favorite regions I have ever been to. This shot was really exciting to take as water would shoot up over 15 feet in the air directly in front of my face. Both my camera and I got soaked. I ended up removing my shirt and jacket as I was unprepared and needed something to cover up my camera. I ended up cold and wet but the adrenaline experienced and beauty witnessed made the shot well worth it.

Olé

El Matador State Beach, 2015. Last week, I was treated to the best sunset I have ever seen. The sky was gray and gloomy the whole day but Jeff Lewis (http://landescapevisuals.com/) predicted that the sky would look quite different soon. We departed from UCLA and made an impromptu trip out to El Matador Beach in Malibu. This is what we saw next. There were obviously no regrets in skipping class for this one. This scene has created a memory of the most beautiful sunset I have ever seen.

Thousand Mosquito Lake

This was taken near my first campsite on Thousand Island Lake during the first sunrise of my backpacking trip out in the Eastern Sierras. The area was filled with crystal clear lakes, blossoming flowers, powerful waterfalls, towering trees, monumental mountain peaks, and last but not least, thousands of relentless mosquitos. If you stopped moving for a second, the mosquitos would swarm around you and feast on your blood. Not fun. Lesson learned. Next time, I’m bringing a mosquito face net and a can of bug spray that lasts MORE than one night. But the mosquito bites are fading and I’m left with some rich memories and photos from a very beautiful forest that I can’t wait to explore more of soon.

Eastern Sierras, 2015

Golden Lantern

Backyard Bloom

South Orange County in very close proximity to Reata Glen. Nothing better than discovering beauty in your backyard!

New Horizons, Catalina Island 2017

Over spring break, I took a ferry out to Catalina island for the first time and hiked the Trans-Catalina Trail. Growing up, I always looked out at the island in the distant horizon and imagined a magical place. As I crawled out of my tent at 4am to the smell of fresh ocean air and the Milky Way galaxy arcing over the surrounding grassy hillsides, I realized my childhood imaginations weren't too far off. Cheers to new horizons.

CIty of Sunflowers

Los Angeles, 2017 Through photography, I try to create art that expresses something of myself and my connection with a wild place. While LA is hardly wild, as i wandered through the local mountains and stumbled upon patches of blooming sunflowers, I felt that same connection. Just me, my camera, and the intimate details of nature. During the times when I wasn't alone on the trail, I encountered friendly hikers who appreciated the beauty of the land that we share. I even overheard a conversation of one group about making sure not to trample the flowers and leaving no trace for others to deal with. Not sure where I'll end up by summertime, but this place will always be special.

Graveyard

Taken in the Yucca Valley desert during a California storm known as "Lucifer." It felt like a graveyard as I weaved between dead joshua trees and barren land in the dreary fog.

Auditorium

2016 was the first year I witnessed fall colors in the Sierras (and actually the first year I saw real fall color at all). The feeling of walking through Aspen forests of pure yellow with leaves falling onto my head made me feel like I was in a fantasy movie. After sitting on most of my photos from the trip and not releasing anything, I thought I’d finally post this one after seeing Alex Noriega post a nearly identical composition of this same clump of trees that he shot before me in 2012. Didn’t mean to copy, but it is pretty cool to see that I had a similar vision to a photographer who inspires me. His post processing of the scene definitely influenced what you see here. Can’t wait to get back up to these mountains and see how everything has changed this winter.

Hood Reflections

Twilight at Trillium Lake with Mt. Hood

Ride the Lightning

This was the first waterfall I visited on a recent trip to the Pacific Northwest. While my friends and I found the popular vantage point of Upper Panther Creek Falls just a short stroll away from our car, the real adventure arrived when we climbed down wet ropes and slid down muddy cliffs until we could physically stand in the fall's running water. After some more exploring and descending down the forest slopes, I arrived to these lower falls while my friend Alex climbed out and precariously perched herself on a log above. Viewing waterfalls from a distance is nice, but I have never felt more creative inspiration than I do when I find myself knee deep in powerful, cold water, rain beating down on my head, studying and arranging my surroundings through my camera. It was cool to meet two other local photographers, whose work has been an inspiration to me, who both expressed similar feelings when submerged in these types of landscapes. Until next time, Pacific Northwest. I know we'll meet again soon (2016).

Run

Lure of the Sea

Monument

Ignition

McWay Majesty

On a clear Big Sur night long after the moonset, I was able to capture this scene of the Milky Way galaxy arching over McWay Falls. By blending one 25 second exposure of the sky to prevent trailing motion of the stars and one 4 minute exposure of the land to gain details in the shadows, I created a scene which the human eye cannot physically see but is truly present in nature. By carefully waiting for the Milky to rotate to the right position and aligning it with the waterfall and shore to form an “S” curve, I attempted to showcase the grandeur of both Earth and our surrounding galaxies. We live in a world far more beautiful than we know.a

Locals Only

Alone But Not Lonely

Where the Moon Goes

I've been too Joshua Tree National Park many times over the last few years but have never created a photo I'm happy with. This was another short camping trip with friends where we hiked new trails and searched for the new blooms of Spring. I found this scene after a long day of hiking right next to our campsite as my friends were preparing the campfire and dinner. The full moon popped out from behind the mountains and compelled me to take out my camera. I felt this scene was a unique representation for the feelings of familiarity and comfort that I often experience while camping with my buddies here.