Raised in a California surf town, I have always been drawn to the interplay between nature, creativity, and the unexpected. My photographic journey began nearly six decades ago with a pinhole camera in fifth grade, an experience that lit a lifelong passion for seeing the world through a lens.
Living with dyslexia, I found photography to be a vital channel for expression—a place where images could communicate what words often could not. Over the years, this drive to create has been fueled by curiosity and imagination, tempered by a parallel path as a reluctant entrepreneur. From the early start-up days of Kinko’s, where I helped open the first 24-hour copy center, to founding Costa Rica Natural Paper Company in 1992 (later Ecopaper.com), my work has consistently engaged with environmental solutions and sustainable practices.
Traveling the world to consult on agricultural waste technologies, I witnessed both the fragile beauty of the natural world and the complex forces threatening it. Throughout this time, my camera was a constant companion. Whether surfing the California coast or exploring remote landscapes, I have rarely been without the tools to document the textures of place, time, and memory.
I am a self-taught, experimental photographer who believes art comes to life when ink hits the paper. My process embraces accident, imperfection, and the unpredictable moments that cannot be replicated. From vintage Canon AE-1s and Olympus OMs to whatever camera is easiest to pack and ready to go, I choose tools that let me focus on the experience rather than the equipment.
In 2019, I began focusing more fully on sharing this lifelong body of work beyond family and friends. Today, I print and process my artwork in my home studio in California, producing both limited and open edition prints alongside mixed-media collages that embody decades of observation and experimentation.
I hope my photographs invite viewers to pause and rediscover the stories and details we often miss in the rush of daily life—to celebrate the enduring power of tangible images in a world that is mostly pixels, and to reconnect with the quiet beauty of artwork you can live with—pieces that bring reflection, gratitude, and inspiration wherever they find a home.
The name Drift Studio reflects the way I work and live—allowing curiosity to drift into new places, trusting the process, and staying open to what the current brings. It’s a reminder that sometimes the most meaningful discoveries happen when we slow down and let ourselves wander.