Come as you are.

Welcome.

In my lifelong pursuit to harness the power of storytelling, I’ve figured a few things out. It’s not about the gear, AI, or flashy editing. It’s about emotion. The people. The moment. The story. As always, my art is a work in progress, but I hope you’ll take a seat and stay a while.

Two years ago I inherited just a couple items from the Lamb family estate: an oil painting on canvas and an MKII fragmentation grenade refashioned as a cigarette lighter. Both come with a story that says more about me than what I could ever hope to write. I’ve thought a lot about what they mean to me and the people who once had them in their possession. I’m not certain where this journey will take me but I know this.

The greatest gift we can give is the story of who we are.

Thanks for being here.

W

Legacy in images.

tHE pICTURE UNDER THE GLASS

How do you preserve your most precious memories? Who is the keeper of your story?

My Grandfather’s desk was as utilitarian as the man himself and it’s where he kept watch. Its defining feature wasn’t the rich oak or the way it caught the morning light. Its slab of glass etched by a million pen strokes wasn’t it either. It was the carefully curated family photographs each in its perfect place under the glass.

My Dad and Uncle jokingly coopted this idea to settle the perennial dispute over who was the more prized son. The closer their photos were to Poppy’s seat at the desk, they argued, the more prized the memory. In a home where every surface was adorned with family photographs, to make it under the glass was something special.

Today, the desk lives on in my Dad’s study where he continues the tradition in his own way. Whenever I visit home and find myself a quiet moment, I like to take a seat in the chair to see what’s on his mind. Even though I already know what I’ll find, I can’t help but be in awe of what’s right there in front of me.

Under the glass.