Welcome to Optic Nervous Photography
Welcome to the new Optic Nervous Photography website. These pages
have taken some time to put together, and I am pleased to finally
share them.
The site brings together a small collection of photographs exploring
the connection between wildlife and the places that sustain it. The
Portfolio contains some of my favourite images. These are quiet
encounters that, for me, bring the idea of “shared light, shared
ground” to life. Some are accompanied by stories from the field,
thoughts about making the image, or sounds recorded on location.
Field Notes will be a place for stories and observations that extend
beyond individual photographs. I will also occasionally write about
photographic process and equipment, not simply for the sake of the
gear, but when it has something useful to say about the experience of
being there and making the image.
The website will continue to evolve as new photographs and stories
are added. For now, welcome, and thank you for spending some time here.
August 2, 2026
Finding North
I came to the outer shores of the central BC coast hoping to photograph
wolves. The search took me among islands covered by forests shaped by
winds and weather arriving directly from the Pacific Ocean, twisting the
trees into forms that are both harsh and beautiful.
For several days, the wolves did not appear. We waited in quiet coves
and travelled along forested shores looking for some indication that
they were nearby. There were other animals, changing weather, beautiful
light and countless opportunities to make photographs. Yet it was
surprisingly difficult to let go of the expectation that the moment
should offer something more.
The more I looked for what I hoped to find, the less I seemed able to
engage with what was actually around me. My expectations had put me out
of alignment with the place.
At first, I tried to correct this by working harder at being present.
This only made things worse. Trying to force myself into presence became
another struggle against what was happening. Eventually, sitting among
the islands of the outer coast, I realized that perhaps I had it
backwards. Instead of fighting my way back into presence, I could allow
the environment itself to guide me there.
Let the place set the rhythm. Allow weather, light, animals, silence and
movement to determine the tempo rather than imposing my own expectations
upon it.
Gradually, something changed. I could feel it. I also began to recognize
that alignment was not something I could expect to hold onto. It came
and went.
This made me think of the needle of a compass. When disturbed, the
needle does not immediately point north. It swings past north, returns,
overshoots again, and continues through progressively smaller
oscillations until eventually it settles. Perhaps presence works the
same way. The objective is not to remain perfectly aligned. That is
probably impossible. We become distracted. Expectations intrude.
Disappointment arrives. Other people affect us. The needle moves.
The practice is to notice.
Once we recognize that we have moved away from north, we can begin to
find our way back. Not by forcing ourselves into position, but by
turning our attention outward. Listen to the place. Become curious again
about what is happening around us and engage with it.
For me, this has implications beyond simply enjoying my time in the
field. Presence is a creative practice that changes what I am capable of
seeing and then capturing with the camera.
When I stop demanding that the landscape provide the photograph I
imagined, I become more receptive to the photograph that is actually
there. A bald eagle hauling a salmon from the ocean. A heron moving
quietly against a distant wall of green forest. A seal resting on a
small rock within a vast expanse of sea and sky. Each is a moment
complete in itself.
I never did see a wolf. Perhaps accepting that is part of finding north.
The place does not owe me the experience I imagined; my task is to pay
attention, to recognize when my compass has wandered, and to return my
attention to the world around me.
Then see what is there.
August 27, 2026