For as long as I can remember, I have been trying to save things. A photograph. A flower. A note. A tool. A scrap of paper. The feeling of a place before it becomes another place I used to live. Maybe because I have also known what it feels like to almost disappear.

I grew up across landscapes that did not stay mine for long. Maine gave me rocks, salt air, old houses, and the kind of memory that clings. Later came deserts, rivers, highways, optical shops, jewelry benches, back porches, and mountain roads. I kept moving, but I kept collecting evidence. Proof that I was there. Proof that something mattered. Proof that beauty can survive being handled, moved, lost, found, and remade.

Soft Cut Studio is where all of those instincts meet. Cyanotype, paper, photography, metal, old eyewear, botanicals, and fragments from everyday life become records of attention. Leaves from the yard. Tools from my bench. Flowers my daughter might have walked past. Objects that hold a little ache because they belonged to a version of life that has already changed.

I am interested in the things that almost disappear. The shadow of a stem. The shape of a hand. The outline of a pair of glasses. The mark a tool leaves behind. The way light can make something ordinary feel suddenly undeniable.

This work is not only about preserving beauty. It is about preserving evidence of light after change, after grief, after motion, after the years have asked us to become someone new. What you find here is less a polished portfolio and more a living archive. A collection of things I noticed before they were gone.