Why do my landscapes look the way they do? Is it because of where I choose to  shoot? Eastern Washington State? Montana? New Mexico? I’ve thought a lot about  that over the years and my answer is no. My images look the way they do because  of what is inside of me. There are a lot of “pretty” landscapes where I go, certainly  in Montana. I gravitate to the bleak, lonely, and isolated because of what resonates  inside me. It’s what I see, because it’s what I feel. Even as I write this, I feel  disturbed saying the words. But when I was about 8 or 9, my mother told me  “you’ve always been an old man”. I’m still not sure how to take that at 66. But yes,  I’ve always been a “glass half empty” personality. So, I tend towards the emptiness  of landscapes, not the glory of mountains and meadows and late afternoon light. I  don’t need the last few minutes of the day to make a photograph that clicks. I don’t  seek out that emptiness, but after so many years, just react to it. I was told recently  that my negativity is a “bummer”. No doubt. For so many reasons, I wish it wasn’t  so. But, at this point, what would happen to the imagery I enjoy creating? How  would I navigate my approach towards something more typical and those  expectedly beautiful images. Would I end up with sparkly, saturated photos? What  would happen to the “glass half empty” stark, tones of my landscapes. I honestly  don’t know. Within certain bodies of my work, I’ve attempted to go against my  instincts. It’s never worked out. 

For me, trust is an extremely important aspect of what I do. I learned long ago to  trust my vision and not second guess things like composition or light or content. Photography is, as is many art forms, a reaction to experience, spirit,  instinct and that which immediately resonates.

Vantage Highway Fires
(1,2 and 3)

Jeff Corwin

Photography/Piezography Print
40x30"
2018