When I was a kid I lived in my imagination. Like most kids. It didn’t take much for me to imagine myself as Robinson Crusoe stranded on an island or Huckleberry Finn on a journey down the river. I could run off into the woods and be lost in my own made up adventure. Also a time to think about who I really was and what I might try to become. Alone. I made it all up in my head. In the woods and dunes not far from where I just took this picture. When I fell in love with photography it happened in these woods and dunes. Photography allowed me to create a reality out of my imagination. With a camera I could make a physical tactile object that proved my fantasies were “real”. Not much has changed for me now as an “adult”. My real life adventures surpassed my pretending. I realized that if I could think of it, I could do it. Very much to my surprise. So when life gets chaotic as it always does, I head for these dunes and live oaks to think. Why wouldn’t I ? It worked for me as a child, it works for me now. I often travel to exotic places. Scroll back on this IG stream. Yet no matter where I am, no matter how fantastic the place might be, in the back of my head I’m dreaming to be here. I’m stuck here. The source.