And you, my father, there on the sad height,                                                             Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray                                                       Do not go gentle into that good night                                                                     Rage, rage against the dying of the light.                                                                         – Dylan Thomas

I am fearful of elevators, loneliness, and the evening. It’s not the deep dark weightlessness of late night that perturbs and frightens me, it’s the transition from light (to be able to see) to darkness that troubles and unsettles me. It is within these hours where I become anxious and filled with despair.

This must be one of the reasons I am a photographer. I go out into the world, to breathe its notoriety and humor, to be able to see clearer, to look for understanding and purpose, to open up, and reach exuberantly and unforgivingly for the light.

But as the sun sets, and darkness begins to overwhelm the struggle, my life becomes unsettled.

This is in my pictures. It is my desperate attempt to stamp the world with good humor and grace. It is my attempt to fight fiercely, with “ruthless determination” against banality. To feel the world, to find its purpose, to understand its laws, to expose its beauty and grace, for me, lies within the hours of the day. As I work within the conflicts of the rebellious and uncontrollable light of day, I wait for the repercussions of the night, like a naughty child who waits for his father to return home in the evening.

Additionally, please check http://www.npr.org/blogs/pictureshow for Npr’s review of The End, as well as this blog.