Like a four-sided porch I'm open to all winds.

I wasn't born in New York and I may never live there again, and just thinking about it makes me melancholy, but I was changed forever by it, my imagination is manacled to it, and I wear its mark the way you wear a scar. Whatever happens, whether I like it or not, New York City is fated always to remain my home.

Redheaded Peckerwood, which unerringly walks the fine line between fiction and nonfiction, is a disturbingly beautiful narrative about unfathomable violence and its place on the land

Neoliberalism seems to ramp up every day, making it ever more difficult for anyone but corporations to own and run things and define the flavor of a place. I'd love to be optimistic about the future, but it's not easy.

I try to take pictures on their own terms, considering the historical and social context from which they emerge.

Like a four-sided porch I'm open to all winds.

I always give money to a sidewalk con if the story is a good one, even if I don't believe a word of it. Art deserves to get paid.