Yeats wrote, “The blue and the dim and the dark cloths / Of night and light and the half light” — I remember those lines like I was born from them. I’m obsessed with the passing of time and the way light changes. When I’ve done what I set out to accomplish in a photograph, I have preserved the skipping and floating and grinding of time. When it works — when time and light and my ideas align — I can see the tick-tick-tick of life moving, right there in a still image, a collection of moments. I can feel that time again and again and again.

The soft, dream-like familiarity of these perspectives is intended to allow you entry, taking you in as you take in the image — no frame, no boundary to the viewer, no sharp division between what I’ve seen and what you see now. Luminous, numinous, this could be our memory, or a vision out of our future, a message from some other world, absorbing and bouncing its unknowable light.