Self Portrait

On the campus of the University of Utah, in the Natural History Museum, just inside and to the left is an old 50’s photo booth: hours of fun.

Royal Crescent

"The city of Bath, England, where the rich and famous have vacationed to the mineral springs and ancient roman baths since the late 1760’s. The sulfur rich water has been attributed to better heath, fertility, and the curing of nearly every kind of human ailment. The Royal Crescent, designed by John Wood as a pinnacle of Georgian architecture, and in symbolic reference to the sun and moon, were the preferred vacation homes of British royalty and the well-to-do. It is a beautiful scene that seems dropped right out of the 17th century."

The Separation Barrier, West Bank

The face of the separation barrier just outside of Bethlehem, West Bank. Rows of barbed wire top the thirty foot concrete walls which are plastered with posters and propaganda, graffiti, signatures, protests, insults, injuries, and bullet holes. Spending a day in the small town of Bethlehem I witnessed the devastation caused by the wall, a side of a conflict that is little heard. Children cannot reach their schools, farmers are cut off from their lands, fathers and mothers are barred from jobs across the border and its many check points. For both sides of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, the wall is a powerful symbol albeit for very different reasons. In its controversy though, the wall itself offers itself as a captivating medium for expression, artistic, emotional, and political.

Summer Day

My niece. Never shy, but coy and cute as can be. We visited This Is The Place Park in Salt Lake last weekend; explored a pioneer era town, witnessed a bank robbery, bought 5 cent candies, and watched a five car train circle its small track around the pond. It was a perfect summer day—90 degrees, a cool breeze, family, and The Pie Pizza to boot. (The Pie Pizzeria, Fort Union 7186 S. Union Park--amazing)

Buzkashi

"One of the least known and most dangerous sports of modern the Persian world, Buzkashi is played only in Tajikistan and Afghanistan around the festivities of New Ruz, or Persian New Year on March 21st. The sport is played much like Polo, though in place of a ball and mallet there is a sheep carcass and bare hands; not to mention an utter lack of propriety. A few dozen mounted horses participate in the game, their riders all men from the area competing for the spoils of victory; a prize awarded by the city itself, usually a car, cow, or pair of goats. Each man fends for himself; though sometimes alliances are formed by promises of a share in the winnings. The animal carcass must be obtained by a horseman amid the fray of slashing whips, stomping hooves, and an impossible tangle of legs, arms, and limbs and then carried in hand at a gallop to the goal located in a high corner of the packed dirt arena. Men have been known to lose their lives in such a struggle. However, it is not only the players and their mounts whose lives are in peril. An audience of strictly men circles the entire arena, concentrated around the goal; they sit on their haunches ready to spring to their feet and out of the path of the stampeding horses. This is one spectator sport where daydreaming is a dangerous gamble. Myself, one of the only women to attend such an event, was nearly trampled by a wayward set of horses taking a shortcut through the crowd toward the goal. The above demonstrates the moment when the mangled query is dropped by the leading horseman, causing a sudden halt of his pursuers who quickly reach down from their saddles to retrieve the carcass and run it in themselves for victory."

Tajikistan, shoes

" Though this picture was taken in Khorog, Tajikistan, this is a familiar scene to most of the Muslim world in some shape or another. Sitting just outside the mosque in the open square was this weather worn set of about one hundred cubby holes used for housing the shoes and sandals of the entering worshipers since shoes must be left behind before entering the house of worship. Such a descriptive portrayal of faith and humility, this image speaks to me of a devotion more sincere and tangible than almost any I have seen. I try to imagine all the shapes and sizes of the shoes behind those small doors and the places that they have been; and then I think of those feet at one point or another carrying their owners on pilgrimage to Mecca, Medina, or Mashhad. "

Poros

Isle of Poros, Greece. We spent an afternoon strolling the choppy island hills through a maze of white washed walls and bright blue doors. Through a red rusted gate a scene caught my eye, a scene of simple yet distinct colors and form. Stopping, this is what I found, a serene moment wrapped in elegant while and tied with a burst of yellow and red. Not being a sucker for stills fruit and flower pots are not my usual muse, though it is refreshing to try something new. Really it was the colors that drew me in rather than the model itself.

Old Men, Tajikistan

"First place award winner in the 2008 American Councils for International Education Photography Contest."

Tajikistan

A young girl on the side of the road intrigued me as we passed. She stood there with such a resolved and exhausted look on her small face, her body sagging; her hands hung limply at her sides. The pail at her feet told the story; that she had been retrieving water from a distance away for her family. Tajikistan's water supply is by any standard undrinkable, yet most Tajik people, whether by lack of proper means or education, still drink from wells, rusted pipes, rivers, and lakes.

My husband and I spent the last year of our lives living in Dushanbe, Tajikistan, a small impoverished country in Central Asia. During our time there we traveled throughout the country; to its cities, villages, farms, to the cotton fields, the aluminum factory, monuments, archaeology sites, and museums. We participated in an intensive Farsi language program through the American Councils for International Education Organization. Learning the language opened wide doors for us to understand the culture, the people, and the politics of Tajikistan, Iran, and Afghanistan. While there I also interned with The Urban Institute, a local NGO working for the betterment of society through simple things like water purification, waste removal, and citizen participation in local government.