It took me about two years after moving to Boston to begin to attempt photographing its landscape. I was initially frustrated by the city’s bewildering layout and traffic patterns, but its terrain and history have slowly revealed the way architecture, meandering parklands and waterways define and are shaped by the city and its inhabitants.
I’ve often found myself lost, driving on some one-way street or walking an unknown path. I wish I could say I did it intentionally, for the sake of adventure and discovery, but in truth I have a terrible innate sense of direction. The forays have, however, prompted repetition and revisitation. Some familiarity has begun to emerge, forming neural pathways that give shape to this place. These labyrinths have woven themselves into my consciousness.
Boston is the place where my wife and I married and started a family. In this, there has been plenty of feeling our way in the dark. But cold winters prompt you to huddle closer together.