Hey! I'm Sean

My earliest venture into the unknown, that I’ve locked away in my brain for easy retrieval, happened when I was six. After an exhausting session recreating Dick Proenneke’s cabin with my lincoln logs, I made my way to the other side of my enormous, dark, cold basement (at least that’s the way I remember it). The Subterreanean hideaway didn’t seem as friendly as it once had because that terrifying furnace scene from Home Alone was burned into my psyche, but I braved the expansive concrete floor and soon enough my six year old attention span was netted by a glorious sight. There it was, so lonely, so… in one piece.  The burned out light bulb was propped atop piles of dryer lint and fabric softeners. I carefully plucked it from the garbage with my uncoordinated, feeble fingers and shuffled to the center of the concrete floor. Thoughts of how much trouble I could get in flew through my mind but curiosity got the best of me. I had to watch it break. I dropped it once, very lightly. Nothing. I picked it up and dropped it again, this time with a little more force. Still nothing. The momentum from my vertically challenged six year old body wasn’t enough to break the bulb. “If I hold it from that metal part” I thought, “and whack it on the ground, it’ll definitely break. It’ll be awesome!” I grasped onto the metal bulb threads, stretched my hand as high in the air as I could and drove the glass towards the concrete. I was Thor, and the light bulb was Mjölnir. It struck the ground and shattered just as my hand slipped off the threads. The jagged glass left at the base sliced into my finger. I was so fascinated by the broken glass scattered on the basement floor that the pain and the realization that I was about to be in huge trouble didn’t hit me for a few seconds. And Then I screamed for my Mom.


I’m just as curious and adventurous now as I was then, I just like to think I calculate my risk a bit better these days. The beauty of Earth never really captivated me until I left home for the first time and drove west. I fell in love with grand scenery and using human powered transportation to get to places I wouldn’t otherwise be able to. Legs, bicycles, kayaks, ropes; you name it and I’ve probably expended the energy to get myself somewhere on it. I bought my very first camera right before I reached escape velocity for that first road trip. I wanted to document every second of it. I did. I kept documenting the events in my life, and the events in the people’s lives that surrounded me. Before I knew it, I realized that this was what I’d been searching for. Photography is what I could do for myself and for others. I opened a door to connecting with people through my photos. This is what I had to offer.


So here I am today, always ready for and dreaming of my next adventure; waiting to document the lives and love of those who give me the privilege of photographing their most personal and intimate moments. I do this for love, and I do it for adventure.