"I came to alternative processes through frustration with how easy it had become to make photographs."
I've been making photographs for most of my adult life — film first, then digital, then back toward something older. The turning point was cyanotype: coating paper with two chemicals, setting it in the sun, washing it in water, and watching a Prussian blue image appear from nothing. It felt like the first time I'd actually made something rather than captured it.
That process led me to kallitype, to hybrid printing, and eventually to building a studio where I could work slowly and seriously with these materials. The studio is in Squamish, and the mountains and rainforest here are present in the work — not as subjects exactly, but as a kind of pressure. The light changes constantly. The humidity matters. The weather is part of the process.
The prints I make are editions of ten or fewer. Every one is hand-coated, contact-printed, and developed by hand. The variability between prints isn't a flaw — it's the record of the making. No two are identical, even within an edition.
The workshops came later, out of a growing sense that people wanted to understand not just what the prints looked like but what it felt like to make them. There's something particular about working with chemistry and light and paper with your hands. The workshops are an attempt to share that.
