Houston

A grieving angel rests against a cemetery monument, its white stone illuminated by harsh sunlight against nearly absolute darkness. Captured on Svema Blue ISO 6 black-and-white film with the Canon T90 and FD 50mm f/1.4, emphasizing the dramatic contrast and intricate details of this funerary sculpture.

Houston traffic becomes streaks of white and red beneath the city lights. A two-second exposure captures the movement of passing vehicles through a chain-link fence, contrasting the stationary foreground with the motion below. Shot on the Canon T90 with the FD 70–210mm f/4, mounted on a tripod, Kodak VERITA 200D.

No Vacancy on Main Street. Downtown Houston's retro motel-inspired cocktail bar glows red beneath the city lights, with people drifting through the patio and balcony above. Shot at night on Agfa Vista 200 35mm with the Canon T90 and FD 28mm f/2.8.

Sunset breaks through the sprawling live oaks surrounding the Menil, carving a path of light through deep shadow. Shot on Mr. Negative Cash Only 100 35mm with the Canon T90 and FD 24–35mm f/3.5L.

A weathered garden pot sitting quietly among the overgrowth outside the historic Peter and Nancy Huff House. A simple scene where bright Texas sunlight, old architecture, and black-and-white film give an everyday object a little more presence.

A little tripod mischief inside Duncan Hall — instead of keeping the camera still, I let it move through the exposure and turned Martel Hall into streaks of color, light, and motion. Above it all is John Outram’s massive Birth of Consciousness ceiling, making an already surreal space even stranger on film.

Met him outside a convenience store, bought him some chips and a drink, then asked if he wanted his moment on the world stage — the internet. He immediately threw the arms out and gave me this. Sometimes the best street portraits need no planning at all.

A late-night encounter in Montrose — skateboard in hand, bags packed, and a small passenger peeking out from behind. Shot on 35mm black-and-white film with direct flash, catching one of those fleeting street moments that feels unmistakably Houston.

Looking straight up at the brutal geometry of POST Houston, where repeating concrete fins pull the eye toward the roofline and disappear into an almost-black Texas sky.

Hard afternoon light cuts through the arches, turning the walkway into a study of repeating geometry, deep shadow, and bright Texas sun.