Imagine a species of life vastly more evolved than human beings. Imagine it as a completely different ordering of life, so cognizant that knowledge itself is the very tissue of its body. Imagine it cares to tutor you, show you what it knows. Now close your eyes. When you open them again you will see this being in front of you. It is everywhere, it is light.

My photographs in the last six years have all been experiments. Let’s see what happens if I do this…or this…or this. Let’s see what happens if I set up conditions in the studio where light is always changing. Let’s see what happens if I eliminate optical representation of the material world. Let’s see what forms just might be bred when sheer consciousness encounters unmitigated light.

These images are descendants of a single photograph that was the very climax of a mystical experience I had in 1969. Recently I was sitting in a cluster of river birches by the Potomac River mentally revisiting that experience in view of what I’ve been learning about the brain. Some scientists would have us believe that what we call God is only an artifact of complex neurological processes. Just then I heard a Harley approaching on the road behind me. I reflexively turned toward it just as a portly guy in the passenger seat yelled to me at the top of his lungs: “God is real!ˮ Since 1969 such things have happened to me a lot.