Part of an upcoming series of spontaneous memorials and roadside memorials. We'll see how many of these I pull together. The plan is to spin these off into their own website. Details to follow.
Photography and graphic design, published three times a week (hopefully). Some new designs, some old work, and some borrowed. The goal is to further develop composition and portrait skills outside of my 3D modeling and animation work. High-res versions of most images are available upon request.
Part of an upcoming series of spontaneous memorials and roadside memorials. We'll see how many of these I pull together. The plan is to spin these off into their own website. Details to follow.
It's been a while since I have posted any new images; February in Salt Lake City tends to be dreary and unbecoming for taking photos. We did get the chance to take a long weekend trip to Zion National Park, still a little early in the year for anything to be blooming, but a very pleasant trip nonetheless.




A beautiful set of oyster mushrooms growing out of an old stump, somewhere in a forgotten section of Salt Lake City. Oyster mushrooms are edible, and considered tasty, although I will not personally be eating these. I liked these images quite well; below I have included a slideshow of more photos of the oyster mushrooms. Also, there are some slime-capped brown mushrooms that were sharing the space, although I have not identified them yet. Any help would be appreciated.

And just for old time sakes, a panorama at sunset overlooking Flaming Gorge in Utah, taken almost exactly one year ago at th
Here is a screenshot from the near completed website for Heber Valley, Utah. I handled the design elements, all the html / css work, and some of the underlying ColdFusion code. The full site, for what's it worth, can be seen at www.gohebervalley.com.
From National Geographic: Geologically speaking, the Comb is a monocline—a single fold in the Earth's crust created by a cataclysmic slippage of deeply buried tectonic plates some 65 million years ago. That upheaval has left a scar slashing across the desert landscape of the Southwest: a sharp ridge of sandstone that stretches almost 120 miles (193 kilometers) unbroken from just east of Kayenta, Arizona, to some ten miles (sixteen kilometers) west of Blanding, Utah.Read more about Comb Ridge, or see a photo gallery of the surround southern utah area, including Arch Canyon, Mule Canyon, and Valley of the Gods.
The scale of the Comb is not colossal: Its ridgeline looms only from 300 to 900 feet (91 to 274 meters) above the plains, and shallow washes surround it on either side. But what the crest lacks in height, it makes up in ruggedness. No smooth arĂȘte, the ridge swoops to sharp summits and dips to V-notch cols with relentless regularity. To hike the Comb is to run a gauntlet of up-and-down severities, always at an ankle-wrenching, sideways pitch. There is not a single mile of established trail in the Comb's reach, which is one reason why no humans, to our knowledge, have ever traversed its length. We thought we should be the first.
Not featured in the sideshow, but present nonetheless: fanatic evangelic scrapbookers, a AK-47 carved out of wood, $16 lemonades with nary a lemon to be found, 9-5 pencil mouse pushers from Midvale thinking they have better lives than carnies, funnel cake, bulging dairy cow mammary veins, someone singing a capella at the Crest Toothpaste booth, all the booths by the main sponsor - an LDS apocalyptic (i.e. The Second Coming) preparedness organization - featuring food storage buckets, generators, and emergency scrapbook supplies to document it all.