I think of myself as a writer who photographs. Images, for me, can be considered poems, short stories or essays. And I've always thought the best place for my photographs was inside books of my own creation.

My best work is often almost unconscious and occurs ahead of my ability to understand it.

A mad, keen photographer needs to get out into the world and work and make mistakes.

My parents, grandmother and brother were teachers. My mother taught Latin and French and was the school librarian. My father taught geography and a popular class called Family Living, the precursor to Sociology, which he eventually taught. My grandmother was a beloved one-room school teacher at Knob School, near Sonora in Larue County, Ky.

Photography, alone of the arts, seems perfected to serve the desire humans have for a moment - this very moment - to stay.

My dad had been an ardent amateur photographer, and he taught me to compose a photograph from the back to the front, and then populate the picture.

There isn't an aspect of book creation I don't enjoy, and there has always been a book in my life to dream about or work on.