Growing up, I never self-identified as an artist. And if I do now, it is underlain with a "fragile" insecurity, like cracked ice with a deep lake beneath. Pigeons are what started it. Pigeons and wet pavement. Pigeons were the first thing I fixated on in anything I can remember as an "adult" artistic process. It was poetry and writing based, and there they were, those pigeons, cavorting across the lines on my page. I didn't need to draw them, the words did that. Though there are a few other themes that recur, I have noticed the way they command compositions when I'm holding a camera. What am I saying... it's fun to discover how certain subjects compose themselves. I find when I look through my pigeon images, it is more like discovering something they are telling me rather than looking at compositions I deliberately framed. Pigeons and wet pavement.