My Out of Gas project began at a filling station, a structure decidedly left behind. I almost didn’t stop, but something tugged me off the road. I tried to ignore the photograph I took, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It took a decade to discover my attraction to it: its hidden emotion, a feeling of being left behind.

We’re living in a liminal moment — gasoline power fades in the rearview mirror, an uncertain future lies somewhere ahead. The change stirs up complicated emotions: sadness, defiance, resignation, hope.

These are emotions people feel, but rarely name — the anger at an EV in traffic, the dread of a future just out of focus. I find those feelings embodied in the scenes I photograph.

Each image begins in the harsh light of an ordinary day. Sunlight illuminates the superficial, but night reveals the deeper connection. In the digital darkroom, I sculpt the scene to reveal the feeling, with mood-matching skies, carefully placed light. The result is not documentation but interpretation — the emotional truth of a place.