Two years ago I made this image. I’m sitting on the couch in my studio, behind on seemingly every task. All of my jobs, my house tasks, my taxes still haven’t been filed! I’m well aware that I’ve been stretching myself far too thin for too long. This week has felt like the beginning of a breaking point. Crisis in each job at the same time. It’s all too much. Something needs to change.

A thought experiment: if I give up one, two, or even all three of my jobs, how would I fill the time? The first thing that comes to mind, honestly, is Ill Wandering. Making images like this one above while exploring the endless country. The trouble is, all of my logic tells me this is not a job; it’s a hobby. Not many people want to look at photos of rural Illinois let alone pay me money for them. So I persist in my working purgatory, pushing ahead at three jobs in hopes that one of them catches wind and makes me some actual money which can then fuel the wandering. The farmland will always be there, awaiting my lens without concern. Time is where my concern starts to creep in, as one year turns to two, then three.

Keep wandering.

Here’s another shot from my new zine, Daily Bread. Bobcat is a lot of fun and it was an honor to get to photograph him. I think we got some nice frames from our brief time together (including some of him pooping in the famed clown bathroom at Lincoln Lodge). Two unrelated thoughts come to mind:

1. Portraits like this one, an editorial image made on assignment, are not commonly seen in photobooks for many reasons. I decided to ignore this in a few instances in the book, as the focus is a compare and contrast between my personal and for-hire photography. My main aim in these printed book projects which I am now focusing much of my efforts on is not to create portfolio pieces showing off my own photogrpahy skills, but to create an art piece that stands on its own, tells a story, and creates meaning and emotion for the viewer. Moving forward, it’s unlikly images like this will make it into my upcoming books.

2. I want to give a copy of my book to all of the humans that are included in its pages. There are fifteen people, which is partly why I ended up printing 130 copies instead of the 100 I did last time. I’ll need to track down Bobcat and get him his copy sometime, though doubt he will be very much interested. Maybe I’m wrong! Another person featured in the book is Chicago’s previous mayor, Lori Lightfoot. I guess she will get a book as well. That’s fun to think about.

One final thought: in looking back at older posts on this here blog, and my previous printed zine, there’s a lot of eye rolling and cringing at decisions I made that, in hindsight, I now think are silly. This was (I swear) by design! It’s really hard to put yourself out there and stand on work you no longer find impressive. But I think understanding what has changed about you as an artist, and the reasons your perspective has shifted, is what growth is all about. I’m hopeful it will make me a better artist as I continue to focus more of my efforts towards “art” photography — whatever that is.

I’m a day late but this image is Earth Day inspired. Nachusa is a magical place that I’m fortunately now able to spend a lot of time in due to my sister purchasing a house adjacent to the conservation area. My big dream is that they expand the parkland onto her neighbor’s property, which is currently farmland. Having bison visible out of her kitchen window would be remarkable; but having them roaming the land just up the road is already quite amazing.

We took a tour of some of Nachusa’s property last year. My favorite anecdote was the origin story to the park itself: a couple was driving through the area and heard the call of a upland sandpiper coming from some (rare) undeveloped land. That bird call then directly led to the efforts to purchase and protect what is now 4,000 acres of land and over 120 bison. Nature is (slowly) healing.