ABOUT ME
I live in the woods of Minnesota with my two boys, two dogs, seven chickens, and one snake. Our little slice of the world is wild and muddy and full of stories—and that’s exactly how I like it.
I got my first camera at age five and have been obsessed with capturing the world ever since. For me, photography isn’t just about images. It’s about memory. Emotion. Place. It’s about the way light falls through a broken window or the way a peeling wallpaper pattern can make you ache for someone you never knew.
I live in t-shirts and jeans. I read books like they’re going out of style. I write upside down more than I write right side up, and if I could survive on cereal and lemonade, I’d be all set.
I’m drawn to mystery, to forgotten places, to history that lingers in the floorboards. I photograph because I want to remember—and because I want to help you remember, too.
I believe there’s beauty in what remains.
I started this project during the stillness of the pandemic, searching for sanity and connection. What I found instead were crumbling farmhouses, coyote bones, forgotten letters, and people whose stories cracked me open in the best way.
My work focuses on rural family farmsteads—places filled with memory, labor, and legacy. Many of them are disappearing. I photograph these homes and collect their histories before they return to the earth. I want to know who lived here. What they built. What they lost. And what they left behind.
The smell of raccoon piss will probably never leave my nose. I’ve been hissed at by vultures and startled by shadows. I’ve climbed through broken windows and stood in silence where generations once gathered around the dinner table.
I hate the phrase “if walls could talk,” but I also kind of wish they would.
Until then, I’ll keep listening. Keep documenting. Keep telling their stories.
ABOUT MY WORK
