it was 4:30 am when i got here, i was the first one to lay prints into this snowfall, and i climbed a hill that was familiar to me but for the first time in maybe 20 years. at the top of the hill i saw a new installation, which was not familiar at all, but felt like a lovely easter egg by the developers of existence: some chimes and mallets! I played these a bit alone in the snowfall at 4:45 in the morning.

when I looked over the top of the hill, it hit me, a sight i hadn't seen since i was a kid, the river we'd always try to avoid when we went sledding down this side, and in that moment it felt like i might have just glanced at my dad, which was pleasant because he's been gone for nearly 4 years now.

^ on the other side of the hill, at the bottom, in a small valley surrounded by slopes, is a tree i've always wanted to photograph in the snow, at least over the past 18 years, since I first heard of Michael Kenna and his photographs of trees in snowy Hokkaido, Japan. those were the first photographs that sparked it for me, the idea that a photograph could be a work of fine art and not just a visual document. I didn't do him nor the tree justice, but it still looks pretty.