I showed up on my parents' doorstep in Fishkill sometime in July 2012, with no money, no job, and no friends. It took me nearly two years to fully embrace the curious mystery and seductive beauty of the surrounding landscape. It was in the Hudson Valley that I began my love affair with photography, with hiking, with the thrill of aimless exploration.
I cannot help but think that I was very sad during much of the time I spent in Upstate New York, and yet, I miss it almost every day. Exploring filled me with purpose, and more than any other place I've been, I developed an emotional attachment with my surroundings. Many places possess a mythical, storybook aura when you first arrive, only to lose their luster as the seasons cycle. The Hudson Valley never did that to me. My Irving-esque impressions of mossy, foggy Catskill trails dotted with rotted logs and ramshackle cabins that time forgot; memories of car rides down endlessly meandering roads named Peekskill, Wallkill,and Plattekill; the image of infinite waves of deciduous trees blooming in splendorous Fall; they all remain as fresh today as the day I arrived on my parents' doorstep.