Peace | Resilience | Perspective | Renewal
Choose Your Free Print.
Four images, four things they carry. Peace, resilience, perspective, renewal. Most people know which one they need before they finish reading the list, and that instinct is usually right.
Choose one and it's yours. The $11 covers postage and the packaging it takes to get a print to your door flat, rigid, and ready to frame. I pack every one of these by hand.
One print per person, so take the one that speaks to you. Discount automatically applied at checkout.
Not sure which one? Keep scrolling past the picker and I'll tell you about each one.
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Four images. Take the one you need.
Your Print Is Free. Shipping Is $11.
Discount automtically applied at checkout.
Scroll for the story behind each one, then choose your favorite.
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A Closer Look
Not Sure Which One?
Here is what each one is, and what it tends to do to a room. The right one usually chooses you.
Scroll to learn more.
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If Everything Has Been Too Loud.
Nothing happened the day I made this picture. A stream, some grass, and no particular reason for anyone to stop. What stopped me was the shape. The water makes an S through the grassland, one bend coming toward you and one going away, and there is no obstacle anywhere in the frame. It is just water taking the path of least resistance across open country.
What it does to a room is lower the pulse. This is the one you glance at on a difficult afternoon and find your breathing has already changed. It gets quieter and more useful the longer it hangs, and it does its best work where you actually rest.

If You Are Being Asked To Hold Steady.
The Badlands usually ask me to go wide. This time I put a long lens on instead, which stacks everything spread across miles into a few inches of frame. Ridge sits behind ridge behind ridge, each one softer than the one in front of it, until the farthest terrain reads as tone rather than shape. What holds it together is the green filling every draw, which is not how most people picture this country.
This one steadies a space. It does not compete with a room and it does not disappear into one. It sits there being older and more durable than everything around it, which turns out to be useful on a wall where the day's actual decisions get made.

If You Cannot See What's Over The Next Hill.
There are trails all through this country that climb, and every one of them hides its ending. You see your next few steps and nothing beyond the rise. On this afternoon the sun was landing hardest on the crest, so the highest visible ground was also the brightest, and I framed it from below so the trail calls you upward.
What it does to a room is create steady forward trajectory. It is not restless and it does not push. It keeps pointing at something better a little higher up, which is why it works in an office or along a stairwell. You cannot see the top, but you can see there is warmth up there.

If You Need An Infusion Of Joy.
North Dakota grows the world's best sunflowers, and most photographs of them are about the field. When I saw this one rising above the rest, I worked it like a portrait instead. Single subject, filled frame, background thrown soft, the head squared up to the light. What came back was character. This flower is not drooping and it is not straining. It is upright, open, and entirely unbothered.
What it does to a room is give it a face. Something with bearing that meets you when you walk in. It reads in a second and holds for years, and it belongs in a kitchen, a hallway, or a child's room, where you want the daily encounter to be simple and warm.

