2021 · Kodak Portra 160 · 35mm

No line was drawn, no edge, no curve, no frame—
A sea of pure potential, vast and still,
Where time, unborn, lay coiled in thoughtless depth,
A serpent waiting for the word to strike.

2021 · Kodak Portra 160 · 35mm

Then came the voice—commanding, clear, and fierce—
“Let there be measure!” and from chaos sprang
The law of sequence, motion bound in fate,
And time arose, a river without end.

2021 · Kodak Portra 160 · 35mm

The heavens wheeled with stars in tempered arcs,
And matter bowed to rhythm, weight, and span;
Form clothed the void with structure, shape, and shell,
And time became the artist and the blade.

2021 · Fuji Superia 400 · 35mm

Mountains ascended through slow-burning fire,
Their crowns of stone inscribed with age and toil;
Oceans obeyed the pull of unseen clocks,
And trees grew rings as time inscribed its will.

2020 · Fuji Provia 100 · 35mm

Yet form, though born, began to wear and warp,
For time, relentless, bears no reverence;
It smooths the edge and hollows out the crown,
And carves the visage of decay in stone.

2019 · Kodak 400 · 35mm

But lo, not all is ruin in time’s hand;
It builds as well as breaks, and through return,
It teaches form to shift and rise anew—
The phoenix rising from the ashen past.

2020 · Fuji Provia 100 · 35mm

The sculptor feels its breath upon his neck,
The writer hears its echo in his line;
Each stroke, each word, is placed against the tide,
A bulwark shaped in beauty and defiance.

2021 · Fuji Provia 100 · 4×5

For though the form must yield, and time must pass,
They court each other still in sacred dance:
The fleeting moment made eternal art,
The mortal breath transformed to monument.