I make photographs with a wooden box and a tiny hole... no lens, no viewfinder, no instant gratification. It’s slow... uncertain... and occasionally frustrating. But it’s also the most honest way I know to make images.

Pinhole photography forces me to stop. To spend time with a scene... to listen to the wind... to notice how shadows move. I don’t take a hundred shots and pick the best one—I make one. Maybe two. Sometimes they don’t work. That’s fine. Failure’s part of it.

This started as a break from screens... a way to unplug from the tech I spend all day with. Over time it became more than that. It became a way to see. Not just through the camera, but to really see—light, shape, patience, surprise. I’m not chasing perfection. I’m chasing whatever happens when I let go of control.

I like blur. I like long exposures. I like the weird stuff that happens at the edges of things. I like that pinhole doesn’t care about sharpness or megapixels or trends. It just waits... and sees what shows up.

If you want more background—or just want to hear me ramble about film, failure, or making a camera out of a coffee mug—check out the blog.

It ain’t holy unless it’s pinholey.