NEW YORK, 2022

“The Big Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
Isn’t that how the saying goes? As a New Yorker now indelibly linked with Apple imagery, I’ll call it close enough.
My grandfather, Albert Grobe, was a classical News Man - the Chief Announcer and Head of the broadcast arm of the New York Times, WQXR. When he retired, he began a second life as a photojournalist on the side, appearing in, among others, LIFE Magazine.
LIFE was the photojournalistic sibling of TIME.
Nearly 5 decades later, three of my own photographs* were displayed in an art gallery for the first time - sponsored by TIME Magazine and located in New York City. The Big Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
I hadn’t seen my hometown in three years - since The Beforetimes - and I couldn’t stay long. The whole trip was a mere 48 hours, but time is a fickle thing, and TIME is what brought me home in the first place.
This shot was taken the evening after the gallery opening, just as the sun was setting on Park Avenue.

*Works featured in the TIME Gallery: 
Monumental Task #6
Photographer’s DNA #49


The natural world provides an intrinsic sense of warmth and wonder - a feeling of calm quiet that settles the soul. In these moments my visual memory always finds itself linked to music.
Here, gazing upon this idyllic overlook of Misty Mountains, the melody of RUSH's "Rivendell" and the mythos of Lord of the Rings came to mind as darkness gave way to light a new day.


In March 2020, my life’s work vanished overnight. By May, every moment not spent on #SaveOurStages was poured into photography.
This lake became my safehaven - a quiet place away from the world and all its chaos. Somewhere I could find Grace.
But one shot eluded me. Hours of research and planning had brought me to one moment of perfect alignment - with clouds blocking the view. Orbital trajectories and brief trips are a fickle beast, so I waited a year.
May 2021 was full of hope. A nervous world was beginning to reopen, and my livelihood teetered on the brink of returning. I went back to the lake. It rained.
Now, May 2022. Over 150 shows later. Life is back in full swing; I hadn’t worked on a landscape in eight months. It was raining at the lake. Again. But the rain stopped. Clouds remained, but I waited. The clouds cleared - mostly. After much Patience, I finally got the shot.
~ Dedicated to Taylor Hawkins.
I hope through the Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace, he's found “Home”.


This infrared-style image of Rock Creek Park’s historic Boulder Bridge in Washington, DC reveals a hidden part of the city with immense vibrance lying beneath its formal facade, showing the world that the district is more than just the seat of power.
From folk to Fugazi, Marvin Gaye to go-go, and Bo Diddley to Duke Ellington, Washington has served as an artistic epicenter for the country for decades, exporting much more than simply the rule of law.
Yet its 700,000 citizens remain trapped within the American rallying cry of “Taxation Without Representation,” unable to truly govern themselves without the approval of a Congress in which they cannot vote.
This strained love of country reverberates across the United States, and is perhaps best expressed by Charles Bradley in his rendition of "God Bless America".
In pursuit of equality and justice, half of the proceeds from this piece will go to 51 for 51, an organization fighting for DC statehood.


Photography is the art of capturing moments in light - an arrangement of photons that has never happened before and won’t again.
This perfect example was pure chance, as I’d been capturing the mountains and the moon when I noticed a boat about to pass. Then, at the moment I began my exposure, a SpaceX Starlink constellation whizzed past just beneath the moon, sending packets of data in patterns of photons back to Earth at the Speed of Light.
Soundtrack: "Sputnik" - Public Service Broadcasting
This collection was forged during lockdown, when stages were dark and I had no concerts to capture.
The Challenge: Capture 500 Distinct Images of an Apple. One Subject, One Fixed Focal Length Lens, One Light Source, and One Location, with No Breaks, No Research, and No Editing.
All images were captured with a desk lamp, a black marble countertop, a vintage 1980 Olympics edition Jupiter 37A lens (135mm f/3.5), and my Fujifilm X-T3. Like the film photography the Jupiter lens was originally built for, every frame remains unaltered - Straight-Out-Of-Camera.
The full results of the exercise were culled to a presentable 50 frames - Frame #500 won the challenge.
The process was meant to narrow the creative band so dramatically that predetermined visions of a subject would fall away, encouraging new perspectives that break through technical "rules" and subconscious biases to unlock one's true creativity.
What remains in the absence of external variability?
The Photographer's DNA.
Polarity. The pandemic emphasized ends and opposites - from the Safety of our Homes to the Danger of the Outside, to the Physical Distance between Humans and the increased Connectivity between Communities. Isolating and Unifying, all at once. Observing and Participating. Peacefully Protesting. 
These images were borne of the same technical challenge as ‘Photographer’s DNA,’ with the addition of my lack of experience & comfort with actively photographing a person. Done with one of my best friends in the heat of June 2021, the process was as Comfortably Uncomfortable as the conversations we’d been having for the past year. Taken at the Lincoln Memorial, these images individually stand on their own - as does the subject, Colin. They show a man Alone, but we made them Together. Polarity.
These are merely snapshots of a story as old as the marble they were framed with. A portrait of a man, or a portrait of us all? History is not Comfortable.
Addressing that History is our Monumental Task.
This Collection Is Not For Sale - These images were Minted to be preserved on the blockchain. They have never been listed, nor do I intend for them to be. They are meant to be observed, meant to be shared, and meant to be felt.


( Timed Edition, Available on Secondary) 
I’m a Concert Photographer - in 2019, I attended / worked 200 shows. In 2020, I only made it to 18.
This photograph is from that 18th show, taken on March 4th, 2020. It captures the essence of what I then spent the next 18 months with the National Independent Venue Association fighting to preserve.
Photography kept me sane through those months of anxious volunteering and lobbying. My camera opened the door for education and experimentation, and provided an outlet for my energy and creativity. Photography helped me find the light, in the dark.
Every piece you’ve seen of mine was borne from that experience - my entire artistic portfolio serves as a representation of my growth as an artist at a time when I could not practice my core craft nor participate in the joy that is communal concerts. I had been furloughed from work, so I dove into creating photographic works of art.
All of my works stem from this one.
All of my works have underlying musical melodies tied to their creation, a tune that repeated on the radio in my head throughout the process.
I’m sure you can guess the companion soundtrack to this one.


( Timed Edition for World Central Kitchen, Available on Secondary) 
My Great Grandfather was born near Odesa, Ukraine in 1882, amidst the aftermath of the Russian-led anti-Jewish pogroms which drove the family to Vilnius, Lithuania.
He became a doctor, to help others.
As we approach a full year of Russian attempted-occupation of Ukraine and observe the continued destruction dictatorships and greed unleash across the globe I wanted to offer an Olive Branch to those who need it most.
This piece is an artistic representation of our collective helplessness that should never be misconstrued as hopelessness.
All proceeds in perpetuity will be donated to Jose Andres’
World Central Kitchen.
This piece will fund food and support community cooking in crisis centers all over our planet, from Ukraine to Türkye to Ohio.
For my mom - whose hand I was holding while I finagled to take this shot with the other as we walked at sunset.
She’s the one who told me to look up. She always is.


Throughout the Second World War over 15,000 watchtowers were constructed along both coasts of the United States, staffed by civilian lookouts dedicated to informing the Coast Guard of any and all suspicious aquatic and air activity. This watchtower in Ormond-By-The-Sea, FL is one of the few remaining, preserved as a formal tribute to those who served.
More than 180 U.S. vessels were sunk off the coast by German U-Boats throughout the war, and on two occasions U-Boats successfully deposited teams of Nazi spies onto the mainland under Operation Pastorius - one on Long Island, less than 100 miles from Manhattan, and one in Ponte Vedra Beach, less than 100 miles from this very tower.
A Saharan Dust Cloud just off the coast sparked this surreal sunrise, shown here in three phases: Blue Hour, Golden Hour, and Sunrise.


This World War II Watchtower is one of the last still standing of over 15,000 that were constructed to observe and defend the shores of the United States against Axis attacks. Taken before sunrise without an ND, this long exposure was a race against the clock to capture automotive lights streaking All Along The Watchtower before it became too bright.


With the wind rippling off the coast, the sun burst through the rolling cloud cover to shine just beneath this historic WWII Watchtower. One of over 15,000 built to defend the United States from coastal attack, the tower stands today as a tribute to those who served, whose spirit is still Blowin' In The Wind.


The final image in this historic series serves not only to mark the bright progression as the sun rose that morning, but also as a reminder of what those who served on the watchtower were protecting the mainland United States from - the possibility of a fiery sky turned orange not from the suns tropical rays, but from the horrific power of weaponized science, controlled and utilized by the Masters of War.


(Exclusive Airdrop for Complete Triptych Holders) 
"It's gettin' dark, too dark to see...
I feel I'm Knockin' On Heaven's Door
Mama, put my guns in the ground
I can't shoot them anymore...
That long black cloud is comin' down
I feel I'm Knockin' On Heaven's Door"
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