Signed Limited Edition Infrared Prints
Here’s What You’re Looking At
These are crime scenes of ambition. Places where genius, failure, compromise, and sheer reckless living all end up in the same dirt.
I’ve been photographing these graves for years. Not because it’s charming or morbid or makes for good content. Because standing in front of a tombstone is the last honest conversation you can have. The dead don’t perform. They don’t curate. They just are. Whatever they were, forever, carved in stone.
Who’s Here
Writers who found beauty in decay. Photographers who saw cities the way the rest of us couldn’t. Playwrights who treated children like human beings. War photographers who refused to flinch. People who burned through their lives like they knew something the rest of us didn’t. And maybe they did. Some got famous. Some died broke after changing everything. Most got their recognition too late, delivered to an address they could no longer receive mail at.
Every one of them mattered to me. Changed something in me. Showed me what was actually possible when you stop playing it safe and start playing for real.
What These Photos Are
Each image is a confrontation. Not decoration for your wall, though they’ll hold their own on any wall. These are questions disguised as photographs. What are you doing with your time? What have you refused to compromise on? What’s it costing you? Is the cost worth it?
You can’t bullshit standing in front of a headstone, and you can’t bullshit looking at one either. These people — brilliant, wrecked, human — ran out of time. They’re inspiration and cautionary tale in the same frame. The ones who changed everything and died with nothing. The ones who bent and survived. The ones who refused to bend and didn’t.
Why You Might Want One
Because you’ve asked yourself the same questions. Because you know that existence is fragile and temporary and that the only things that survive any of us are the work and the stone. Because you don’t want something pretty on your wall. You want something that talks back.
These photographs aren’t memorials. They’re mirrors.
This Is a Lifelong Project
There are hundreds more graves to visit. Hundreds more people who changed things, who deserve to be remembered, who I haven’t gotten to yet. New work gets added as I go. This doesn’t end until I do.
Because that’s the whole point, isn’t it? We’re all temporary. The geniuses, the revolutionaries, the artists. Gone. What remains are the works they left behind and the stones marking where they ended up. That’s it. That’s all any of us get.
The graves don’t answer. They just keep asking.
