Another lap around the sun, another year soon to have passed. In most ways 2022 was a good year for me photographically. The year held a few unexpected opportunities as well as a few months of limited productivity. One major theme coursing through 2022 was periodic, yet short, creative bursts which led to the creation of the majority of images included in this end of year review. Photographing close to home was more challenging this year than most. I pushed pretty hard, yet came away with unsatisfactory results, or results which didn’t add anything new to what I would like to say photographically. I could easily not have mentioned this fact, after all this post is supposed to celebrate the past year’s successes, right? But a pattern of productivity and stagnation is common in the creative life, a pattern which is healthy to recognize, understand, and share. I believe productive struggle is an essential step in the creative journey, as well as one of its most valuable teachers. If this amazing art form always felt easy then this would indicate I wasn’t extending myself in an effort to grow. Having said this, as I put together this end of year image review, I was struck by my deep appreciation for the images and experiences contained within, and by the recognition that there was some growth this year. Sometimes taking a step back provides space we need to put things in context and see them for what they are.
Here are a few highlights which made 2022 special:
Sharing a some of my favorite places in the Southwest with my wife and son. During prior visits I always knew I’d one day share these remarkable places with them yet years went by without making good on this idea. This year we were finally able to dedicate a week in early Spring towards exploring an area of the world I find so incredibly inspiring. It turned out to be a great trip! We have similar plans for Spring of 2023, this time a multi-day backpacking tip through a canyon I’ve wanted to visit and photograph for years. Can’t wait!
A short yet productive winter trip to Yosemite Valley, a place I’d never photographed before yet which turned out to be so inspirational it left an indelible impression on me. I truly can’t wait to return.
Finally returning to the high country of the North Cascades with my good friend Paul Bowman. The days we spent backpacking and camping among those high peaks took me back fifteen years ago when I was able to spend more time among those craggy glaciated mountains. There is no environment which I relate to more than the high mountains, especially during the quiet moments around the edges of the day. Spending time in the mountains gives me a lot of energy which lasts for a while after returning to town.
Climbing Mount Whitney. Not really a photography trip in itself, in fact I only carried my iPhone, but hiking to the summit of the highest mountain in the lower 48’s was an absolute highlight of the year. Watching my thirteen year old son thrive in this high mountain arena, embrace the 2 am start time, hike for hours in the dark (his favorite part of the trip, he says), and then beat my wife and I to the summit by more than a half hour turned into one of those unexpected proud papa moments. Climbing Whitney also acted as a stepping stone for a much higher mountain we are planning for in 2023. Stay tuned!
Teaching and instructing more. This year I fielded more requests for private in the field and online instruction than during any year previously. The more I taught the more I realize how much I truly enjoy helping clients develop their technical and compositional skills while also honing their vision for their art. In October I also received an invitation to be one of the instructors for the Out of Oregon photography conference — an experience I found profoundly rewarding and which has inspired me to be more open to teaching opportunities in the future.
As 2022 comes to a close I would like to express my immense gratitude and thanks for the people who I shared so many great experiences with, and who were pivotal in making this year such a great one! First and foremost are my wife, Betsy, and son, Landon. We have big plans for next year so I can’t wait to create new stories together. I also want to thank my friends in the photography community who I spent time with this year and whose work continues to amaze and inspire me on a daily basis: Adrian Klein, Eric Bennett, Paul Bowman, Matt Payne, Bryan Swan, Sarah Marino, Ron Coscorrosa and Anna Morgan. Thank you all so much and I hope our paths cross again this coming year!
Below are the images captured this year which I found personally rewarding. I hope you enjoy them! Thank you all so much for your continued support!
A Brief Smile, Yosemite National Park
24-120mm @92mm, f/11, 1/30th sec, ISO 400
I’ve included two images from Yosemite in this end of year image review. The general concept for the trip was to use the massive valley walls as a background canvas for the sweeping lines of tree limbs. Here, the background, consisting of forests lining the giant rock walls, acts as a “canvas” to use while arranging the foreground trees. I spent two sessions strictly pursuing this concept. The photography itself was fast paced and spontaneous, a style of creativity I find exhilarating.
This image stands apart from other tree images in my portfolio because of its colors. Tree and forest photography in my Pacific Northwest home is dominated by the myriad shades of green, often set against a convoluted background of cluttered forest cover, unruly trees, and spots of sky which need to be accounted for while composing. This scene, in contrast, is dominated by warm highlights working against cool blues found in the background. This warm late day light was an unexpected treat and worked to complete what I already believed to be a wonderful scene. A little serendipity never hurts.
Cross Stream, Yosemite National Park
24-120mm @ 66mm, f/11, 6/10th second, ISO 100
Another image from Yosemite photographed a little later in the day than the first. After working a section of trees lining one of Yosemite’s meadows I ducked into the boulder filled woods hugging one of its gigantic rock walls. My idea for this part of the Valley was to find a composition which incorporates both the boulders and trees. I found a few compositions which worked to some degree yet nothing which truly felt like a cohesive image. As I packed my camera away I turned around and saw this scene of crossing branches and illuminated foliage. Back out came the camera and I captured the image above.
The long expressive forms found in these tree limbs (I wish I knew the name of them. Black Oaks?) feel somehow human to me. The trees appeared as if they were old friends greeting each other after a long absence. The warm light illuminating the background foliage enhances this feeling of interpersonal warmth and connection. Lastly, I just enjoy this image each and every time I view it. Sometimes it’s not necessary to over analyze why an image works. Sometimes it works merely because it works.
Scorpio In Hunt, Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument
100-400mm @280mm, f/22, 1/2 sec, ISO 64
Okay so…this image was actually photographed in late Fall 2021 but processed and released in 2022, so I’m including it in this year’s round up of images. It’s becoming typical for me to take a few months or longer to process images, especially when they are captured during productive trips such this one to a canyon in southern Utah. The colors and patterns displayed in this image are produced by light reflecting in natural oils produced by decaying plant matter. It’s easy to become completely engrossed in this visual kaleidoscope while scanning around with a 100-400mm lens. Little worlds exist everywhere in these pools of standing water. Such a fascinating subject to work with. I have to thank Eric Bennett and Paul Bowman for being fantastic companions on this trip. Hope we can do it again!
Initially, I had mixed feelings about photographing these oils since I’d already seen so many stunningly creative images utilizing of them. I wasn’t sure if I could add anything more to this conversation. However once I stood over them peering through my camera at the explosion of phantasmagoric shapes and colors I knew there was no sense resisting the immediate urge to photograph. Of all the compositions I found this one contains one special element — a bit of a story. The menacing form of a “scorpion”, eyes fixed and glowing, moving down towards its next meal represented by the blob of color found at the lower left. For me, this element of story telling set it apart from other oil images I captured which relied more on pure abstraction.
You can read more about this trip and view other images here.
Hall of Faces, Paria Canyon-Vermilion Cliffs Wilderness
16-35mm @ 20mm, f/16, 5 sec, ISO 160
In March my family and I went on a whirlwind tour of a few special places in northern Arizona and Utah. This canyon was the one place which was new to me, and I’m always excited and inspired by new places. Unfortunately we were only able to dedicate part of day towards exploring the canyon, but from that brief encounter I know one day I’ll come back to properly photograph it without the pressing burden of time bearing down on me. This image was the only “keeper” from the trip, one which I enjoy a lot.
Seeing this image brings me right back to physically being there in person, sharing this amazing place with my family. While walking through this section of canyon the first thing I noticed was an abundance of concave pockets appearing like eyes and faces staring stoically into the canyon. There are several in this image if you look hard. The attempt here is to highlight these features within the wider scope of the canyon. The striated lines, slight sense of movement, and the overall muted yet rich color palette also work well for me.
But Do I Want This?, Mount Hood National Forest
24-120mm @ 120mm, f/8, 0.5 sec, ISO 64
Oregon is widely known as a paradise for waterfall aficionados. I’ve photographed my fair share of them over the years but lately I’ve felt less inspired to do so. I photographed this particular waterfall the previous year when my friend Eric Bennett was in town. I forgot how beautiful it was. We were lucky to arrive just as beams of light were dancing their way across the face of the falls. I came away from that visit with two images I really enjoy, but none showcasing the light beams themselves as central subjects. This year my family and I were looking for a day hike. I suggested this waterfall and, once again, I was struck by just how beautiful it is. The light cooperated fully and I was able to make this image of a single, intense beam striking a rock. Simple yet poignant.
I included this image because it’s the end product of an idea I’ve had floating around my brain for some time. Over the years I’ve collected little bits of mental ideas and concepts for images to draw upon while searching for compositions. I view them as “seeds” which I hope one day to cultivate into images. I also enjoy this image due to its conciseness. There is no mistaking the visual intent here. The title is somewhat personal in nature as it reflects internal deliberations and uncomfortable feelings I occasionally have whenever too much attention is sent my way, for any reason. So, as I looked back at this year with all of its trials and unexpected successes, this image seemed a clear choice for several reasons.
Spirit Animal, Mount Saint Helens National Volcanic Monument
70-200mm @ 200mm, f/11, 1/60 sec, ISO 250
This is the most special moment I witnessed during 2022. My family and I, along with some other friends, were on a three day backpacking trip on Mount Saint Helens. I awoke before dawn to photograph sunrise from a vantage point near our camp. Above me was open blue sky and below fast moving fog filled the valley. Miles away Mount Adam’s icy crown rose above a perfect sea of clouds. It was miraculous and soul stirring setting. Wind would periodically blow the fog upwards through our camp, producing rapidly changing, dynamic conditions for photography. The already jaw-dropping view before me became more so with the sudden arrival of a large mountain goat, who ambled along a rocky spine to my left then before stopping to survey the magnificent scene before him. Every once in a while the goat would turn towards me while looking out at the wonder before him. Even though I know this is not the case, he seemed to be making sure I was aware of just how extraordinary a sight it was. He finally continued on his way. I managed to capture a few frames before he continued his morning rounds. This was my favorite.
The personal nature of the moment, and the luck which was involved in experiencing it, made me instantly grateful to the natural world around me, and for my continued health in being able to continue venturing into wild areas to experience such wonders. Anyone who knows me knows nature has long been a powerful guiding force in my life, one which has played a role in many major life choices. I’ll forever be grateful for the guiding hand of nature. I believe the simple act of maintaining awareness on our specie’s need for, and continued dependence on, the natural world is vitally important for fully understanding what it means to be human.
Living with Ghosts, Olympic National Park
24-120mm @ 120mm, f/11, 1/40 sec, ISO 200
Scorching summer temperatures in Portland, Oregon sent my family and I scurrying to find cooler prospects for a trip into nature. When it’s over 100 degrees in the city even the mountains can feel oppressively hot. Luckily the coast can be upwards of 40 degrees cooler than areas inland. So we decided to head off to the Olympic Coast for a two night backpacking trip. We had amazing conditions throughout the trip replete with lots of fog which hugged the coastline. This image of ghostly tree forms is my favorite from the trip.
Anyone who follows my work probably recognizes three things: 1) I enjoy trees, 2) I enjoy fog, and 3) I enjoy photographing trees in fog. Although I’ve photographed a fair amount of foggy tree scenes, they are mostly from a distance, not while standing deep within the forest. Only on two occasions have I photographed dense fog which extended uniformly to the forest floor like it does in this image. The deep dense fog allowed me to the use tighter framings, working close up with the natural lines and angles of tree trunks simplified against a receding background. This image feels intimate, mysterious, even haunting. The fact that it was captured in a location which holds such enormous personal significance makes it all the more special.
Lean In, Olympic National Park
24-120mm @ 48mm, f/11, 1.3 secs, ISO 64
In June I spent a handful of days exploring the rainforest valleys of Olympic National Park with my friend Bryan Swan. While we visited more well known areas, such as the Hoh and the Quinault, I finally was able to photograph some lesser visited valleys such as the Bogachiel and South Fork of the Hoh. After dozens of visits to this magnificent park it felt great to move through completely new territory. As is always the case while photographing these dense, overgrown rainforests, images were fairly hard to come by. This scene of a vine maple branch sweeping in front of a giant Douglas Fir is my favorite from the trip. The goal in forest photography is to create images which speak to the place while also simplifying the elements in a way which minimizes visual clutter and chaos inherent in these messy forests. Strong central figures (such as the Doug Fir) and strong curving lines (the vine maple) help promote a sense of structure and visual flow within this image.
Trigger Cut, Mount Rainier National Park
100-400mm @ 270mm, f/8, 1/15 sec, ISO 125
Morning fog slowly creeping across a deep, glacially carved valley in Mount Rainier. This river drains one of the largest glaciers in the lower 48’s. I stood on an adjacent ridge photographing sunrise when this more intimate scene started calling out to me. The next fifteen minutes were a blur of creative fun as I experimented with various framings. This is the one I felt worked the best.
Much like Olympic National Park, Mount Rainier has long played a defining role in my life. Over the past three decades I’ve spent many days camping, backpacking, climbing, and photographing in the park yet, much like Olympic National Park, it’s rare for me to capture an image I’m proud of. This one was photographed on the last day of a whirlwind five day photography trip. The mountain itself was beautiful that morning, yet this intimate scene of fog gently drifting over a glacial river appealed to me most. It’s simplicity and atmosphere have made it one of this year’s favorites.
Summer Skin, North Cascades, Washington
24-120mm @ 120mm, f/8, 1/8 sec, ISO 64
Years ago I seemed to head to the North Cascade mountains to go backpacking and climbing several times each year. The range is a special place for me, filled with soul catching locations where life long memories, and the stories they produced, were made. Recent visits have been mostly day trips, so it felt great to once again strap the big backpack on and spend a few nights under the stars with these striking, glaciated summits surrounding me. I was joined by my good friend Paul Bowman. This image of seasonal ice & snow melting on the surface of a high alpine lake captures a lot of what I appreciate about the range — summer snow, pristine lakes, massive rock spires, golden/ red late day light, and a lot of mystery. When I’m gray and old I’ll look back on these nights spent in such mountain arenas as some of the best of my life.
Paul and I had no idea this alpine lake would be melting out. It was pure serendipity. When we crested a small saddle above the lake we couldn’t believe our good luck! Backpacking and camping beneath this stunning rock spire, along the shore of this lake, was a highlight of the summer. This image is special as it melds the two most visually striking elements which dominated the scene from our camp, the high mountain summit and breaking snow and ice on the surface of the lake. The image manages to distill those two dominant visual elements efficiently into a visually concise photograph. Nothing else is depicted, just the mountain and lake.
Glass Swirls, North Cascades, Washington
24-120mm @ 120mm, f/18, 1/125 sec, ISO 200
An image of pollen or dust (my best guesses) swirling on the surface of the same alpine lake as the previous image. Clouds and trees can also be seen reflecting in the lake’s calm waters. I often say my favorite images are the ones I had no idea existed before encountering them. This is a perfect example. Five minutes before releasing the shutter I had no concept, no inkling that I was about to take one of my favorite images of the year. And yet, I did.
This is one of those unexpected finds. As mentioned, images which I had no idea existed moments before have a way of becoming special to me. As well, the visual abstraction, textures, curves, shapes, and tonal contrasts work really well for me. There’s a lot to explore and take in while viewing this image. The reflection of trees and clouds at top center-left hint at the scenes true setting. Lastly, it contains imperfections. The depth of field isn’t quite as deep as I’d like it to be, creating softness in the upper portions of the frame. Then again, I don’t mind this tension even if others do. Is it necessary for each pixels in each and every image we produce to be perfect?
Departing Gift, Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument
24-120mm @ 120mm, f/8, 0.5 sec, ISO 64
One of the very last images I photographed during a short yet intensely productive trip to a canyon in southern Utah. It was one of those trips which could only result in a flurry of creativity — the place was that beautifully inspiring. My friends Eric Bennet, Paul Bowman, and I went into this canyon for Fall color, yet this rather spare, high contrast scene of a bare limbed tree set against partially illuminated sandstone is my absolute favorite from the trip, and of the year. This image was the swan song of the trip, one of the very last before climbing out of the canyon. In many ways noticing this scene and photographing it in a satisfying way was the canyon’s last gift to me, even after already giving me so much over the previous 48 hours.
This image is different from other desert or canyon images in my portfolio. Because it’s a bit of an anomaly, it potentially can have the effect of nudging my work into new and unknown territory by expanding my notion of what’s possible while in the field. Certain images have a way of pushing us forward, and this is an image which may just allow me to see things in a new way.
Gathering, Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument
100-400mm @ 180mm, f/18, 0.5 sec, ISO 100
Another image from that trip into Utah’s canyon country. Color is what drew me to this image as well as the dark leaning lines of tree trunks forming the backbone structure. During those days we spent hours walking through, above, and past these trees and I can tell you it was a fair challenge to find a cohesive image of them. As soon as a noticed this gathering of trees set against a uniform background I knew an image was at hand.
This image was included because it’s soothing. Much like Cross Stream, it possesses a sense of interpersonal warmth, like a gathering of family members who haven’t seen each other on a long time. The general mood is carefree and open. The image’s soft contrasts and colors convey a sense of calm reassurance which puts me at ease each and every time I view it. For these reasons it is was a clear choice to be included in my end of year review.
That’s a wrap! I hope you’ve enjoyed this last look back on my photographic journey through 2022. Once again, I want to say thank you to everyone who has supported me over the course of this year, and in years past. Can’t wait to see what 2023 has in store!