Half Hidden

Honored to have some photos & words featured on Rock Meets Soil.  Full feature on their blog!

Each of these photos has a silhouetted theme—
it's difficult to see the faces of the subjects. To me,
they represent the vulnerability and mystery of human
relationships. Often we only display curated parts of
ourselves deemed worthy of revealing. 

Most of us are half hidden—we're
anthropomorphic glaciers gliding through the world,
carrying most of our burdens beneath the surface. 
Photography feeds my curiosity, allows me to evoke
emotion, and every so often, grants me a glimpse into who
someone truly is. May we continue to welcome life's
mysteries, keep asking questions, and have
the courage to show our scars.

Mysteries, Yes

Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
to be understood.

How grass can be nourishing in the
mouths of the lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever
in allegiance with gravity
while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bonds
will never be broken.
How people come, from delight or the
scars of damage,
to the comfort of a poem.

Let me keep my distance, always, from those
who think they have the answers.

Let me keep company always with those who say
"Look!" and laugh in astonishment,
and bow their heads.

Mary Oliver 

Friends!  I’ll be in New Mexico, Utah, & Arizona for April/May, and I’m looking to shoot some weddings, local businesses, and musicians while I’m out there.  All travel fees will be waived!

Any connections or suggestions would be amazing!

Max Patch, NC

On a summer morning

I sat down

on a hillside

to think about God-


a worthy pastime. 

Near me, I saw

a single cricket;

it was moving the grains of the hillside


this way & that way.

How great was its energy,

how humble its effort. 

Let us hope


it will always be like this, 

each of us going on

in our inexplicable ways

building the universe.

- Mary Oliver

#mvoyage | Austria

I spent a day in Austria at the end of my Somersault trip last summer.  My wonderful Airbnb host Monika took myself and 15 elderly Austrians on a hike that passed by 4 glacial lakes.   I was the youngest by 30 years and the only English speaker.  There's a certain learned contentment that comes with being an outside observer.  The white lines carving the mountainsides were streams of pure glacier water termed "glacier milk"; from a distance the water appears white.