I got my first camera for my eighteenth birthday (thanks Mom!). I was, by that time, completely obsessed with BMX, and it was only natural to start photographing my friends. By this time I had been scrutinizing the photos in BMX magazines for years, I had a favorite photographer, and I had analyzed his lighting choices and angles.

I learned in the age of film, which I imagine is different from learning digitally. Each shot had a very real cost associated to it, and I wanted to make each one count. Rather than simply push the button and instantly see the result, you are forced to imagine, visualize, compute, and then patiently await the outcome.

In time my “shots” improved and I began contributing to BMX bicycling magazines. A few years later I had the opportunity to make a magazine of my own creation. I don’t think I stopped long enough to appreciate it at the time, but I had achieved my teenage fantasies. Strange how anxiety mixed with expectations and desire can muddle one’s appreciation of life.

Over time the nature of my photography evolved to suit the nature of the design work I was doing. Often it took on an increasingly commercial quality. I flirted with the prospect of becoming a professional photographer outside of the BMX industry, but alas it never took shape.

The photography that I find interesting now I would describe as documentary, the sort of photography one might encounter in the pages of National Geographic, which I remember pouring over and appreciating as a child. Had the bicycle not pulled so strongly at my soul, perhaps I would have pursued photography to a different degree.