I’ve spent years photographing places that are easy to overlook. Old factories, abandoned ruins, and even chipped staircase banisters have shaped the way I see the world

I still remember the first time symmetry stopped me in my tracks. I was standing at the bottom of a grand staircase when I noticed it. The curves, the shadows, the balance…

Every autumn, I find myself reaching for my camera without even thinking about it. The world outside changes so fast, almost overnight, and I never want to miss it.

There’s a reason people plan entire road trips around fall foliage. Whether it’s the maples of New England, the golden aspens out West, or even just a single fiery tree on your street corner

When it comes to stairs photography, composition is everything. Staircases give you so much to play with, but the trick is knowing what to look for and how to frame it. And that starts with curiosity.

I’ve been asked a lot over the years what’s in my bag when I go exploring. The truth is, it changes depending on the season, the spot, and how much I’m willing to lug around that day. But over time, I’ve figured out what’s worth the weight, and what I wish I’d packed when I didn’t.

I’ve slid down snowy embankments, waded through ankle-deep mystery water, and spent a questionable amount of time alone in collapsing churches to bring you these photos. Over the years, I’ve picked up a few things from my mistakes and near-misses.

Ruin photography has always fascinated me. These places are falling apart; walls cracked, ceilings caved in, nature pushing through wherever it can. The buildings are crumbling, but you can still feel what they were built for, even if that purpose ended years ago.