I’D HAVE NEVER PICKED UP A CAMERA IF IT HADN’T BEEN FOR JUGGLING. BORED AT CAMP IN THE ADIRONDACK PARK, I TAUGHT MYSELF TO JUGGLE IN THE SPAN OF AN AFTERNOON. UNFORTUNATELY, I’D DESTROYED AN ENTIRE BUSHEL OF APPLES IN THE PROCESS. THIS WAS MUCH TO THE DESPAIR OF MY GRANDMOTHER, WHO HAD BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO PIE.

IT WAS "SUGGESTED", AT THE DEFENSE OF ANY FUTURE CRIMES AGAINST FRUIT, THAT I FIND "SOMETHING ELSE TO DO". MY GRANDMOTHER SUGGESTED WE GO FOR A HIKE, SWEETENING THE DEAL WITH THE OPPORTUNITY TO USE HER CAMERA. I TOOK ONE PHOTO THAT DAY, OF A WHITE-TAILED DOE LEAPING FROM THE UNDERBRUSH.
I’VE BEEN CHASING UNEXPECTED MOMENTS EVER SINCE.
I GAVE UP ON THE JUGGLING.

WHEN NOT OUT EXPERIENCING THE WORLD, IT'S THE SOUND OF RAIN DRIPPING OFF PALM LEAVES IN ISLA BASTIMENTOS, BURNING MY TONGUE ON STEAMING CUPS OF MINT TEA IN ESSAOUIRA, AND THE SMELL OF A CAMP WOOD STOVE THAT I MISS MOST.