I am always looking for home. Perhaps a place that never was, but it is the place I believe I come from and belong.

In 2016, as I descended the stairs from my studio, early-winter light flooded through the vintage glass window creating a spectacular presence. That light seemed to reference something no longer there physically, yet intensely palpable in its absence. That image was the start of a daily photographic exploration.

Daily walks became a practice of seeing – forgetting what I know and seeing - because nothing ever looks the same twice – just as no memory is ever truly the same twice.

Though I create wherever I am, many of these images from the past eight years are made in the small town where I live, walking within about a 6-mile radius. Even the familiar transforms.

They express ways that places are experienced – considering imagination as what lies between what we believe we know, and remember, and the mystery of the unknown. Like Hiraeth, an untranslatable Welsh word, these images express a longing for a home, which maybe never was. They have a nostalgia for possibly ancient places to which I cannot return. When I photograph, I look for evidence of what may have been before, and hear the echo of the lost places, those who have passed, and our grief for their loss. Imaginary Places are nowhere and everywhere.

The places I wander reveal to me enigmatic clues, bridges between the past and the present, the ordinary and the remarkable. Every day, I look for them, long for them - all the while realizing they may be products of my imagination intermingled with recollections of my past. I transform these places until they seem but artifacts of a dream through which I am a wanderer.

I spend a good amount of time wandering in darkness. Time evaporates in darkness. It is not about where I go, but rather, what I see.