I love photography.

No, that’s not what I love.

I love to speak through my eyes. I love to share with you what I see. There is something striking to be seen everywhere, even in the strangest places—and unless I am too sick to feel that beauty, to chase the angles, too sick even to want to continue living—unless THAT, then I am seeking to capture this beauty as it moves through all things.

The spirit of Light.

The unseen within the seen.

The Light which has been with me through all that I have been through since I was born. The kind and knowing voices that whisper; don’t give up, my love. The unseen hands that touch me, encircle my fisted hands when they would go through drywall and shatter my knuckles on a wooden beam.

I walked with my son on the sun-sparkled silver bleachers that rise up into the blue dome of sky. On the bouncy, clean brand-spanking-new Astroturf that shimmers in brilliant team colors and dreams of future sports battles yet unplayed, of saliva and hot blood sprays, of shouts and sweat and manic cheering that has not yet manifest.

I walked through the sea of brisk and heavy late-winter air and this is what I captured through a lense. It was somehow magical. Days later, it still fills me with happy.