To the observant wandering child, the landscape is a place of fantasy and fame. With this naive view, the scale of the world is skewed down; a field, a stand of trees, or an old road can hold the magic and possibility of the American west in 19th century frontier times. In the transition from adolescent to adult, my views of landscape have changed; but the woods near my parents’ house still hold the same mystique and wonder that I remember from my youth. These photographs are documents of my personal history, a meaningful childhood remembered.
Map of Memories