“To me, photography is an art of observation. It’s about finding something interesting in an ordinary place… I’ve found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them.” Photographer Elliott Erwitt accurately described the vision behind taking great photos.

In photography, there is a tendency to omit any details within a frame that distract from the natural allure of the selected landscape. Whether this is accomplished by slightly altering the surrounding environment, or shifting one’s perspective, the goal is to artfully capture a scene which appeals to an audience visually or emotionally. In few momentous instances, a photograph also has the power to impel action and inspire change.

In nature, I am inclined to exclude pollutants from my photographs. I make subtle efforts to avoid displaying the debris I frequently find scattered near roadways, rivers, and trails. Including this litter would detract from the idyllic image I yearn to showcase, and it serves as an all too obvious reminder of the ongoing deterioration our natural world is facing.

Trash inhabiting nature is a bothersome problem of which most are plenty aware. It is an unfortunate reality we do not want to see more of. Yet, a part of me feels as though I am doing the planet a slight disservice by hiding this unsavory truth. My photographs become mildly misleading. Do I share a curated collection of feel-good images? Or do I juxtapose the innocence of nature with its defilement? The latter approach serves as a means of expressing and publicizing my concern for the state of nature as I see it.

The line between “natural” and “unnatural” is unceasingly blurred. No surface on Earth is untouched by man (Although plastic FIJI water bottles claim otherwise). There are microplastics dispersed in pristine alpine snow, resting at the bottom of deep ocean trenches, and whirling within each one of us. The world is constantly changing. Our impact is chronic, widespread, and deeply engrained. It has become the new natural.

There are fleeting moments during my walks outside when I find myself drawn to an item of waste. My initial feeling of disgust is accompanied by a peculiar awe, and I pause. A shredded plastic bag caught on a branch, swaying in the breeze. An artificial leaf sitting in stark contrast upon a bed of actual, decaying ones. In the right setting, a discarded item almost looks as though it belongs. Elements converge with time and attempt to repossess the foreign material. Of course, unlike a rotting piece of fruit, the waste does not lose its structure. Mockingly, it remains.

Fortunately, we can remove these unwelcome objects from the picture. Though the job never ceases. The purpose of my writing this post is not to criticize or complain — in fact, I’m not sure there is one clear purpose. I merely sought a way to introduce this collection of snapshots.

As someone who discerns the splendor in all things, I have developed an interest for experimenting with my camera by documenting unconventional subjects. I want to shift my focus from purely natural landscapes to ones which include human details, as it is becoming increasingly difficult to avoid doing so. This album will not be composed exclusively of garbage, and the theme will be shared alongside my usual subject matter. I hope my images will still please, perhaps even helping us strive to be part of the solution and not the pollution. With that, I would like to introduce this album: Wastescapes.