One thing is certain: nothing an be repeated.  Nothing ever happens twice.  There is no going  back to capture something missed, something lost, recreating an impression, retrieving some envisioned magic moment.  It doesn't happen.  Anymore than there is a way to pick out, today, from a sea of faces the exact face of a loved one remembered from years ago.  All things and their aspect change from minute to minute.  Even supposedly solid rocks, whether on a beach or a high mountain pass, erode, will not be there next year, nor even tomorrow, revealed in quite the same way.  My work is a kind of visual diary, a journal of one who sought a kind of thrilling beauty in light, as one might seek it in love.  And kept notes upon it.

                 North Shore in drizzle,                                                  abalone shell fragment                                                   water, Jack Creek,

                 Pt. Lobos, 1975                                                          and kelp, 1965                                                             Oregon, 1966

                 water and reeds,                                                         wind-eroded sandstone,                                                lava, McKenzie Pass,

                 Big Sur, 1967                                                             Pt. Lobos, 1975                                                           Oregon, 1967