My first semester as a grad student, I was working like a maniac on my design problems, freelance-editing a book, swimming a mile a day, and trying to live a life. One day I went to the pool, swam a lap-- in what I remember as being truly gorgeous form-- and then wanted to die. One visit to the doctor later, I found out I had mononucleosis. All of my teachers were understanding but my photo instructor said, “You can lift a camera, right? So, photograph in bed! “ It was one of those “aha!” moments. I thought, “wow, you can be a slug and still have a career; you can feel lousy and still make something meaningful.” So, I got out of bed, changed my major to photography and never regretted it.
One of my first jobs after getting my MFA was working for a private investigator. The first job I did was an adultery case where I spent five nights on a roof with a 200mm lens trained on an apartment a block away. Other times I did crime sites.
I’m actually surprised how much that ultimately influenced me. In a way, my images have a lot to do with finding and reading clues. How you make a whole out of an accumulation of details. How you ask yourself, what kind of place is this and what’s going on here? And why?