Loaded what I thought was a fresh roll of film into my camera. Turned out it was half-exposed already. Shot over images I’d carefully composed for my Vanishing Point and Beaten Tracks projects—structures I’d specifically wanted to capture on film.

My first reaction? Frustration. These were shots I needed. And I’d ruined them.

But after I calmed down, something shifted. The curious side of me wanted to see what I’d actually captured. Maybe there was something in these mistakes I hadn’t expected.

What I found were double exposures—a technique I’d thought about for years but never pursued because I couldn’t figure out how to compose them intentionally. The accident solved that problem for me.

This is Part 2 of a three-part series about what film photography taught me: letting go of control, embracing mistakes, and staying connected to what matters.

In this episode: Why the things that go wrong in your creative work are often invitations to discover something new.

Today, I’m sharing the complete visual journey through the book itself.

These 37 photographs follow a 2-mile railroad corridor from Scottdale west toward Krog Street Tunnel, passing through neighborhoods where the tracks have shaped demographic patterns for over a century. What follows isn’t every image, but a selection that captures the arc of the work, the rhythm of the sequence, and the range of stories these railroad corridors contain.

This was BTNTRX.V1. A first attempt to understand how railroad infrastructure shaped, and continues to shape, Atlanta’s geography.

When I published this book in 2021, I was early in my photography journey. Some images are technically imperfect. Some compositions I’d approach differently now. The historical research was surface-level compared to what I’ve learned since. The book design was functional but basic.

But what I got right was this: I chose to look closely at places other people overlooked. I committed to following a corridor completely, not just cherry-picking the most photogenic moments. I published the work before I felt “ready,” which meant I could learn from it, grow from it, and eventually return to it with five years of additional experience.

These photographs document a specific moment in Atlanta’s endless transformation. Some of these neighborhoods have changed dramatically. Which means this book has become something more than I intended — not just an artistic project, but historical documentation.

I’m current putting the final touches on BTNTRX.V1.5. Expanded geography. Multiple railroad corridors. Deeper historical research. More complex stories about migration, commerce, and transformation alongside the central narrative of division.

But none of it happens without this first version. Without the willingness to start before I was an expert. Without the conversation outside Clarendon Supermarket. Without walking these 2 miles over and over until I understood what they wanted to tell me.

Thank you for walking these tracks with me this week. The journey continues.

This is Part 5 of a 6-part series revisiting BTNTRX.V1 before the February 2026 release of the expanded edition.

When you stand at a railroad crossing and study the history of the neighborhoods nearby, you see how division works in three dimensions. Boundary lines that run for miles. Overpasses that create “above” and “below.” Industrial corridors that push residential neighborhoods to the margins. Crossing gates that lower dozens of times a day, stopping traffic, stopping movement, reinforcing the separation between one side and the other.

These images from BTNTRX.V1 focus on infrastructure as barrier—the physical structures that enforce division and make “the wrong side of the tracks” a tangible, daily experience.

The Racial Dot Map

The Racial Dot Map uses census data to visualize the geographical distribution of races in America. Each dot on the map represents an individual and is also color-coded by race and ethnicity. As I reviewed the stretch of railroad tracks that made up my collection of pictures on the map, it was easy to see the stark differences in racial makeup on either side of the route. The core purpose of this project was solidified: showcase the pictures along a 2 mile stretch of the Georgia Railroad and highlight the racial history of key points along that route.

Reynoldstown & Inman Park

Located directly across the Georgia Railroad from each other, the Reynoldstown and Inman Park neighborhoods in Atlanta date back to the second half of the 1800s. On the southern side, Reynoldstown was one of the first African-American neighborhoods to develop in Atlanta when former slaves started migrating in to work for the railroad after the Civil War. Inman Park to the north was Atlanta’s first planned suburb in the late 1880s and was touted as a segregated oasis for the wealth.

Hulsey Yard

Hulsey Yard in Cabbagetown started as part of the Georgia Railroad in the mid-1800’s. In close proximity to the Fulton Bag & Cotton Mill, it expanded rapidly as Georgia’s cotton industry grew. For decades, it acted as a physical barrier, separating neighborhoods like Cabbagetown and Reynoldstown from the Old Fourth Ward and Inman Park areas. It was a major CSX hub until closing in 2019.

Infrastructure isn’t neutral. Every overpass, every fence line, every crossing gate represents a choice about how space gets divided and who gets access to what.

In BTNTRX.V1, these barriers aren’t background elements—they’re the subject. The railroad corridor isn’t just a transportation route. It’s a mechanism that enforces separation, that makes “wrong side of the tracks” a physical reality rather than just a metaphor.

1. Is the pattern of racial and cultural division along railroad tracks still present today?

2. How were railroad tracks used to define the neighborhoods along the 2 mile stretch I’d been photographing for months?

For the first objective, I found the Racial Dot Map—a visualization of every person in America as a single dot, color-coded by race using 2010 Census data. When I zoomed into Atlanta, the pattern was unmistakable. Railroad tracks consistently marked demographic dividing lines across the entire city.

This wasn’t coincidental. It was by design.

Regarding the second objective, I found several sources that helped me identify why certain neighborhoods were formed and how race, occupation, and financial status influenced all of them.

In this video, I share the research that transformed how I understand not just my photographs, but my entire city. Railroads and Atlanta grew up together—and segregation policies used those tracks as tools to enforce geographic division that persists today.

Related Links:

• Racial Dot Map - Weldon Cooper Center

• Census Dots

Part 3 of 6 | Coming next:
Tomorrow: Photo Essay examining the infrastructure as barrier—overpasses, fences, crossings that physically separate communities.

I was standing outside Clarendon Supermarket one foggy morning, photographing the Scottdale Steel building across the street, when a longtime resident approached me. Our conversation—captured in yesterday’s video—gave me the key to understanding what I’d been documenting for months. These weren’t just atmospheric architectural studies. They were evidence of how railroad infrastructure shaped Atlanta’s racial geography.

These are the images from that stretch of Scottdale where the story of BTNTRX revealed itself.

Ingleside and Scottdale were developed to provide housing for employees of the Scottdale Cotton Mills built in 1901 on a cotton field near a small creek. Divided by the Georgia Railroad track, the white families lived on the west side in mill-owned houses while Black families settled on the east side.

In 1924, George Willis carved out land in Ingleside to develop Avondale Estates. He excluded the “Black side of town” to the north bordering Scottdale. Yet, the community relied heavily on people of color to care for their homes, families, and businesses. Abelia bushes spanning 3 city blocks further established the color line by separating the commercial and residential areas.

This start of a 2-mile stretch of train tracks became the foundation for BTNTRX.V1. Every image in the book traces this same corridor—following the railroad west from this central starting in Scottdale and Avondale Estates, documenting how the tracks divided predominantly Black neighborhoods from more affluent white areas and influenced the neighborhoods that developed in, and around, Atlanta, GA.

The conversation outside Clarendon Supermarket didn’t just give me context for photographs I’d already made. It changed how I saw the rest of the project. Every crossing, every overpass, every fence line became evidence of intentional geographic division that persists today.

Tomorrow: The map that showed me this pattern extends far beyond Scottdale—across Atlanta and across America.

Part 2 of 6 | BTNTRX.V1 Retrospective

Coming next:

• Jan 3: Video - By Design: How Railroads Divided Atlanta

• Jan 4: Photo Essay - Infrastructure as Barrier

• Jan 5: Video - Beauty in the Beaten Path

• Jan 6: Photo Essay - The Complete Journey

BTNTRX.V1.5 releases February 2026

A man approached me that foggy morning and said, “I know what they think of me. I come from the wrong side of the tracks.” He meant it literally—the railroad tracks divided his neighborhood from the more affluent one across the way, and it had been that way since their formation.

This is Part 1 of a 6-part series revisiting BTNTRX.V1 before the February 2026 release of the expanded edition, BTNTRX.V1.5.

Coming this week:

• Jan 2: Photo Essay - Scottdale: Where It All Began

• Jan 3: Video - By Design: How Railroads Divided Atlanta

• Jan 4: Photo Essay - Infrastructure as Barrier

• Jan 5: Video - Beauty in the Beaten Path

• Jan 6: Photo Essay - The Complete Journey

It felt essential to my process — like I wasn’t really doing the work if I wasn’t doing all of it.

Then I handed a few rolls to Bellows Film Lab here in Atlanta, and something shifted.

This is the first of three short videos about what happened when I finally let someone else handle part of my creative process. Lessons about control, mistakes, and memory that came from a simple decision to stop doing everything myself.

Runtime: 5 minutes

What’s the one thing you’re holding onto in your creative process that’s actually holding you back?

This is Part 1 of a 3-part series exploring lessons from film photography.

I just released the updated catalog featuring 9 brand new pieces that premiered at Artful ATL this year plus the pieces that dropped last year. You can download it on my website to see availability, pricing, and other details.

Visit Vanishing Point Site

The new work takes a different direction. I've been experimenting with dusk and stormy weather conditions (early morning fog is a tough collaborator!), and I switched from metal printing with LED backlights to smooth rag archival photo paper. It's been fun pushing the project into new emotional territory while keeping that same focus on our rapidly changing neighborhoods.

Here's the thing though: these really need to be seen in person. I truly believe print is the best medium for viewing photography. The way the light interacts with the prints, the texture of the medium, even the scale... it all tells a different story than what you'll see on a screen. If you're curious about any of the work, reach out via email or social media and we can set up a time for a viewing. Zero pressure.

I'm always happy to answer questions about sizing, framing, or anything else ... including payment plans.

Visit Vanishing Point Site

Thanks for following along on this journey. It means more than you know.

-Z

The Beltline Journey

Starting near the Krog Street tunnel where the Atlanta Beltline meets Dekalb Ave.one of my favorite places in the city to photograph—I began the walk toward Piedmont Park with no timeline pressure and no specific shots in mind. The interplay of new development and old infrastructure along the Beltline provided the perfect backdrop for this creative reset.

The Beltline has become a centerpiece of Atlanta development, and walking its length offers a compressed view of the city's rapid transformation. But yesterday I wasn't documenting change—I was just observing and capturing whatever sparked my interest.

Every few hundred yards brought something worth a frame. Not because it fit into any existing project, but because my camera was curious instead of purposeful.

Festival Energy

Jazz Fest hasn't changed much in the 20-plus years I've been attending. Same Memorial Day weekend energy, same mix of families and music lovers claiming their spots in Piedmont Park. But I was seeing it differently this time—capturing wide angles of crowds, something I rarely shoot.

My one rule: capture the feeling of being there, not the performers. I wanted the spaces between the music—conversations during set changes, the way a whole community settles into a park for an afternoon and evening.

There are enough photos of musicians. What interested me was the energy between people instead of just the buildings they usually inhabit in my work.

Community Moments

The conversations, the settling in, the way strangers become temporary neighbors on blankets spread across the grass—these are the moments that make Jazz Fest what it is.

As daylight faded and the music continued, I found my wife and we settled into our own spot in the grass. By this point, the camera was put away. Sometimes the best creative decision is knowing when to stop creating and just experience.

The Takeaway

These images will probably never become part of a formal project. They don't fit the aesthetic of "Vanishing Point" or any other body of work I'm developing. But that's exactly the point.

Sometimes creativity needs permission to roam free from our own standards and expectations. These photographs exist as documentation of a creative reset—proof that 48 hours of deliberate unproductivity can remind you why you picked up a camera in the first place.

The festival will be back next year. The creativity? Well, that's always available. We just have to remember to let it out of its cage sometimes.

What would your 48-hour creative reset look like? Share your thoughts in the comments below, and if you try your own version, I'd love to see what you come back with.

Next up: I'm returning to "Vanishing Point" work with fresh eyes as I prepare for upcoming exhibitions. Subscribe to follow along as these atmospheric urban studies continue to evolve.

What started as a simple walk along the Beltline turned into a 48-hour creative reset that reminded me why sometimes the best artistic decision is knowing when to stop creating and just experience. In this vlog, I share the journey from Krog Street to Piedmont Park, the images that probably won't make it into any project, and why giving yourself permission to be deliberately unproductive might be exactly what your creativity needs.

Whether you're a photographer feeling stuck in your own patterns or any creative person looking to shake things up, this one's for you.

"The image is the piece of art for me. A frame dresses it up, gives it a little style. But it's really...about where it's exhibited."

For photographers, the journey from capture to exhibition involves countless decisions that balance artistic vision with practical realities. In the video below, I share the latest evolution in my preparation for Artful ATL on June 7th—specifically, the surprising pivot in how my Vanishing Point collection will be presented.

The Video: Framing Decisions & Layout Challenges

The Timeline Crunch

With just three weeks remaining until Artful ATL, my preparation schedule has reached a critical phase. As I've mentioned previously, I need to reserve the final two weeks for printing, correcting any errors, framing, and installation preparation. This means key about presentation and layout must be finalized within the coming days.

The installation itself will happen before the June 7th event, further compressing my already tight timeline. These practical constraints are now directly influencing artistic decisions about how my Vanishing Point collection will appear on the wall.

A Shift in Presentation Strategy

One of the most significant pieces of feedback from the critique session centered around my presentation approach. If you've followed my Vanishing Point exhibitions, you'll know that only one piece has ever been framed—the very first image that launched the collection, "Cash In Cash Out," which was printed on photo paper and hung in a floating frame. But even that got the LED-enhanced metal treatment for subsequent exhibitions.

My signature style for the became frameless metal prints with LED backlighting that creates:

• A floating effect creating separation from any wall

• A luminous glow that enhances the atmospheric qualities

• A modern, minimalist aesthetic

Based on critique feedback, I'm now exploring a substantial change in both medium and presentation—moving to photo paper prints with traditional gallery framing for this exhibition. Rather than seeing this as a regression, I view it as giving a more traditional presentation a proper exploration. As I mention in the video, "Not going to do it halfway. If I'm going to do it, I'm going to go all in."

The Art vs. The Frame

This shift has prompted deeper reflection on the relationship between artwork and presentation. In the video, I discuss my emphasis on the image, not the medium.

This philosophy extends to my approach with books as well, where white space serves as a natural frame that allows the images to stand independently. I recognize that while exhibition framing matters for the gallery context, many collectors may ultimately reframe pieces to match their personal spaces and aesthetics.

The Framing Consultation

My visit with Mirage at Buckhead Framing Company proved particularly valuable. Not only is she a skilled framer, but she's also a fellow artist who will be exhibiting at Artful ATL—providing a shared understanding of the specific context for these pieces.

I brought the same test prints from the critique session to explore options and discuss my vision. She helped clarify both aesthetic and practical considerations, particularly how the framing dimensions will affect my final layout.

The Layout Process

With framing decisions done, my attention turned to the exhibition layout. My methodical approach involves:

1. Photographing the actual wall space where I'll be exhibiting

2. Importing that image into Adobe Illustrator

3. Creating a scaled grid (1 centimeter = 1 inch)

4. Designing proportionally correct frame mockups for each image

5. Arranging these elements to optimize the viewing experience

During the process, I had a crucial realization that highlights the value of this exercise: my initial plan for three different print sizes and ten total images simply wouldn't work within the allocated wall space. The larger prints would dominate too much space, making it difficult for viewers to properly experience each piece.

Necessary Adaptations

Based on these layout explorations, I've made two significant adjustments to my exhibition plan:

1. Reducing from three sizes to two - This ensures better proportional balance across the collection while maintaining visual interest through some size variation.

2. Decreasing from ten images to nine - This provides more breathing room between pieces, preventing a crowded feeling that would diminish the impact of individual works.

These decisions illustrate how practical constraints often shape artistic presentation. While I initially wanted to include more and larger images, the quality of the viewing experience takes precedence over quantity.

Next Steps

My approach now is to let these layout ideas "simmer and marinate a little bit"—walking away and returning with fresh eyes over the next few days. By early next week, I need to finalize decisions so I can provide specifications to Mirage, receive a quote, and set the production process in motion.

This deliberate reflection period is crucial for making confident decisions that balance aesthetic vision with practical exhibition requirements.

The Continuing Journey

As we approach the June 7th exhibition date, each decision builds upon previous ones to shape the final presentation of my Vanishing Point collection. From image selection to critique feedback to framing and layout, the process continues to evolve in response to both artistic insight and practical realities.

The shift to traditional framing represents not just a technical change but a willingness to experiment with how my work communicates in the gallery context. I'm curious to see how viewers respond to this new presentation approach compared to my previous LED-enhanced metal prints.

What's your perspective on framing photography? Do you prefer traditional frames, minimalist presentations, or something completely different? Share your thoughts in the comments below.

For event details and tickets to Artful ATL (June 7th at Atlanta Contemporary), visit ArtfulATL.org.

In this latest installment documenting my journey to June 7th, I share:

• The timeline crunch as installation approaches

• Why I'm giving traditional printing and framing a thorough exploration after predominantly using metal

• My visit with Mirage at Buckhead Framing Company (who is also exhibiting at Artful ATL)

• My technical process for creating scaled layout mockups using Adobe Illustrator

• The surprising discovery that I'll need to reduce both image sizes and quantity

What began as a plan for 10 images in three different sizes has evolved into 9 images in two sizes—a necessary adaptation to ensure proper viewing space for each piece.

As I refine this layout over the coming days, I'm balancing artistic vision with practical limitations while maintaining a cohesive presentation of my Vanishing Point collection.

Watch Part 1 (Selection Process) and Part 2 (The Critique) to follow the complete journey.

"I hate criticism. I mean, REALLY don't like to be criticized. But when it comes to art, critique is very important."

This tension—between the discomfort of receiving feedback and its necessity for artistic growth—lies at the heart of my preparation for Artful ATL. In the video below, I share my recent experience with a critique session that came at precisely the right moment in my exhibition journey.

The Video: Embracing Critique

The Perfect Timing

With just four weeks remaining until the June 7th exhibition at Atlanta Contemporary, I participated in a critique organized specifically for Artful ATL artists. Three prominent art figures—recognized not only in Atlanta but nationally and globally—reviewed our work and provided feedback at this crucial decision-making stage.

The timing couldn't have been better. I'm at the precise point of finalizing which Vanishing Point images will make the cut and determining how they'll be presented. As I mentioned in Part 1 of this series, I had about 5-6 strong candidates with several others under consideration.

Expecting the Unexpected

One of the most valuable aspects of critique is its unpredictability. As I note in the video, "I rarely hear what I expect to hear, but I always hear what I need to hear."

This critique was no exception. One image I had mentally confirmed for the show received feedback that it didn't quite fit stylistically with the others. This unexpected insight is now reshaping my final selection.

Sometimes critique confirms what you've been quietly wondering about. Other times, it reveals aspects of your work you hadn't recognized—breaking creative blocks and opening new possibilities.

Setting Clear Goals for Critique

For critique to be most effective, you need to know what specific feedback you're seeking. Going into this session, I had three primary goals:

1. Image selection feedback - Help whittling down my options to the strongest cohesive set

2. Sizing considerations - Input on proportions and scale

3. Technical presentation evaluation - Reactions to my aluminum printing technique with LED backlighting

I brought 11 test prints to the critique, including one piece from last year's exhibition that demonstrated my printing and lighting technique. This tangible example helped the reviewers understand my vision for the final presentation.

From Digital to Physical

As I move from the critique phase into production, several key decisions are now being finalized:

Final Image Selection

Based on critique feedback, I'm making final determinations on which 10 images will appear in the show. The cohesiveness of the collection has become even more important following the reviewers' insights.

Print Specifications

The printing process requires precise file preparation. Each image must be optimized for the medium. Considering how the metallic surface interacts with the photographic content versus paper is particularly important for the atmospheric qualities in my Vanishing Point collection.

Timeline Constraints

With just four weeks remaining, production schedules are tight. Print orders must be placed promptly to allow time for delivery, quality assessment, and any necessary adjustments before installation.

The Value of Discomfort

Critique forces us outside our comfortable artistic bubbles, challenging assumptions and revealing blind spots. While I openly admit my discomfort with criticism, I recognize its essential role in advancing my work.

The willingness to subject our art to outside evaluation—especially at critical decision points—often makes the difference between good work and exceptional work. It's a form of artistic humility that ultimately strengthens the final presentation.

Next Steps

With critique feedback integrated into my thinking, I'm now finalizing selections and moving into production. In the next installment of this series, I'll share the completed print order and wall layout design, giving you a preview of how these images will converse with each other in the exhibition space.

As always, I'll continue to document both the decisions and the process behind bringing Vanishing Point to Artful ATL on June 7th at Atlanta Contemporary.

Have questions about the critique process or how you approach receiving feedback on your own creative work? Share your thoughts in the comments below or join the conversation on Instagram @zuristanback.

For event details and tickets to Artful ATL (June 7th at Atlanta Contemporary), visit ArtfulATL.org.

"I hate criticism. I mean, REALLY don't like to be criticized. But when it comes to art, critique is very important."

Four weeks out from Artful ATL, I participated in a critique session with three prominent art figures recognized in Atlanta and beyond. The timing couldn't have been better as I finalize my image selections and prepare for printing.

In this candid video, I share:

• My personal struggle with criticism and why I still seek it out

• How critiques rarely offer what I expect, but always deliver what I need

• My specific goals for this critique session: image selection, sizing, and printing technique feedback

• The unexpected recommendation to remove an image I was certain would make the cut

• How bringing a previous exhibition piece helped demonstrate my aluminum printing with LED backlighting

While I won't reveal all the specific feedback (you'll see the results on June 7th!), this experience provided crucial insights that will shape my final presentation decisions.

The critique process reminds us that advancing our art sometimes requires embracing discomfort and outside perspectives.

Follow along as I continue documenting this journey toward Artful ATL on June 7th at Atlanta Contemporary.

Watch Part 1 of this series to see my initial selection process and exhibition history:

"I'm an artist and I'm sensitive about my shit." - Erykah Badu

And perhaps, as I confess in the video below, I'm a bit too sensitive. At any given moment, I might believe I have 20 exhibition-worthy images, and the next moment feel I have nothing worth showing. This emotional oscillation is part of the selection process that I'm sharing with you as I prepare for Artful ATL 2025.

The Video Journey

In this first installment documenting my preparation for Artful ATL, I take you through my current selection process, my exhibition history, and the specific locations I'm targeting for new photographs. As one of 30+ visual artists who will be displaying at Atlanta Contemporary—one of the Southeast's leading contemporary art centers—I'm working to create not just individual striking images, but a cohesive visual narrative across my allocated wall space.

A History of Exhibition Evolution

My first photography exhibition in 2021 at ARTiculate ATL came just a year into my serious pursuit of photography. With a relatively thin archive, I selected four images that, when arranged together, created a powerful narrative that resonated with the social climate of the time:

• White silence equals compliance

• It's okay to be Black

• Everything will be okay

• A change is going to come

To my surprise and delight, all four images sold—a powerful affirmation for a new photographer.

For my 2022 return to ARTiculate, I expanded my approach by featuring my "When You See Them" project—a series honoring African-American Gen X men with their "flowers" (both literal and metaphorical). I paired these portraits with street photography matched by color palette and the personality of each subject.

2023 became a year of experimentation, particularly with fog photography, which led to the cornerstone image for what would become my "Vanishing Point" project. By 2024, this project had fully taken shape, and I premiered several pieces at ARTiculate ATL 2024.

The Current Selection Status

For Artful ATL 2025, I'm focusing on presenting the expanded "Vanishing Point" collection. What began as fog-based photography has evolved to include dusk and storm conditions—creating a broader visual language for exploring Atlanta's overlooked architecture.

Currently, I have about 5-6 strong candidates that I'm 90-100% confident will be included in the show. This means I need to find 4-5 more images to complete my vision for a 10-piece exhibition. Some may come from my existing archive, but I'm also actively shooting new material.

The Scouting Process

Scouting is a crucial component of my creative process. I always have a camera ready—whether shooting through a car window or walking through a neighborhood. These initial captures help me understand not just the building itself, but its context: surrounding elements, tree lines, light patterns, and how they might transform under specific atmospheric conditions.

I'm currently targeting three specific locations:

1. Big John's Liquor on Memorial Drive, with its appealing light bar on the sign that creates a distinctive pop

2. A Jamaican restaurant in Scottdale that I've photographed multiple times in different conditions, seeking the perfect composition that aligns with the Vanishing Point aesthetic

3. A small soul food restaurant near my home, whose exterior lighting creates an interesting visual element

With only about three weeks remaining to capture these new images—allowing two weeks for printing and preparation—I'm carefully planning my shooting schedule around weather conditions and optimal lighting times.

Technical Considerations

My final considerations in the selection process are technical: size and material. I've developed a signature printing style using aluminum with LED backlighting that gives the images an ethereal glow—perfect for the atmospheric qualities of Vanishing Point. This approach will continue for the Artful ATL show.

While last year I presented both panoramic and square formats to offer different price points and showcase various composition techniques, I've increasingly fallen in love with the panoramic format. For this exhibition, I'm leaning toward an all-panoramic presentation, though in varying sizes.

Next Steps

With the selection process underway, I'm balancing the need to finalize existing choices with creating new work. Once I've completed my shooting schedule and made final selections, I'll move into the production phase—ordering prints, addressing any technical issues, and designing the wall layout for installation.

Artful ATL uses a salon-style presentation format, which gives each artist approximately 10 feet of wall width with a vertical hanging restriction between 4 and 6 feet up from the floor. This specific canvas requires careful consideration of how these images will converse with each other in the exhibition space.

In the next installment of this series, I'll share the results of these upcoming shoots and walk through my final selection and sizing decisions.

Have questions about my selection process or suggestions for locations that might fit the Vanishing Point aesthetic? Share them in the comments below or join the conversation on Instagram @[your handle].

For event details and tickets to Artful ATL (June 7th at Atlanta Contemporary), visit ArtfulATL.org.

What excites me most about Artful ATL is the opportunity to present 7-10 pieces as a collective body of work rather than individual images. This "summer art social" will feature over 30 artists across multiple visual disciplines, plus DJs, specialty drinks, food trucks, and chalk art.

In this video, I walk through:

• How I'm expanding the Vanishing Point aesthetic beyond fog to include dusk and storm conditions

• The specific locations I'm targeting for new photographs

• My process for scouting and capturing the perfect atmospheric moment

• The timeline constraints for finalizing selections and preparing prints

For a deeper analysis of my selection process and exhibition history, check out the companion article on Lens & Letters.

Event details and tickets: ArtfulATL.org

The series now embraces dusk, dawn, and rain — each creating their own visual poetry about Atlanta's changing landscape. These expanded conditions maintain the project's core exploration of memory and progress while introducing new conversations between light and architecture.

The Stables Lofts, Castleberry Hill

This 1919 stable-turned-loft building at 313 Walker Street has been on my radar for years. Situated in historic Castleberry Hill, once a warehouse district and now an arts enclave, it represents Atlanta's continuous reinvention.

After multiple attempts, I finally captured its essence last month at dusk, when the street was momentarily unpeopled, its history illuminated by the perfect balance of fading natural light and emerging artificial illumination.

While I typically favor straight-on perspectives that emphasize symmetry and architectural detail, I always explore multiple angles. The 45-degree view offers a different relationship with the building's surroundings and reveals additional layers of the structure's character. Which version will make it into the final book or exhibition? That remains to be seen as each tells its own story about this historic space.

K Wing Express, Glenwood Road

Like many neighborhood fixtures, this small Chinese and Wings spot on Glenwood Road exists in a visual space between noticed and unseen. Located on an unassuming commercial corner in Decatur where I live and frequently photograph, K Wing Express had appeared in my viewfinder many times.

The first decisive moment came a couple of weeks ago during recent storms — wet pavement reflecting fragmented light, darkened skies creating dramatic contrast, and the storefront standing resilient against the elements. last week at dusk, when the restaurant's warm interior light created a beacon against the deepening blue hour. Then, a different mood emerged

These two atmospheric conditions reveal different facets of the same everyday place. The dusk image captures a warm, inviting quality, while the storm version speaks to perseverance and constancy, both essential characteristics of the neighborhood fixtures that "Vanishing Point" celebrates before they transform or disappear.

These images demonstrate how "Vanishing Point" continues to evolve—expanding beyond fog to embrace multiple atmospheric conditions while exploring varied perspectives on the same subjects. The project isn't just about documenting places before they change or disappear; it's about revealing the many moods and facets these ordinary landmarks contain within themselves.

Where It All Began: The Fog Series

The roots of "Vanishing Point" remain in these early morning fog studies that first defined the project and resonated with collectors. These sold pieces established the visual language that continues to guide my exploration—finding beauty in ordinary places through atmospheric transformation.

As the collection develops toward its eventual book form, these deliberate explorations of light, weather, and angle collectively create a more nuanced portrait of Atlanta's urban landscape. Each atmospheric condition—fog, dusk, storm—offers a different emotional lens through which to view and preserve these vanishing points in our shared environment.

Which versions will ultimately make it into the final book or exhibition remains part of the creative journey. For now, I invite you to see these everyday places through these various atmospheric conditions—each revealing something different about places we might otherwise take for granted.Lens & Letters is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

The Birth of a Visual Artist

My relationship with Atlanta's art scene dates back to the early 2000’s when I briefly owned a gallery in Castleberry Hill. While my grandfather's photography legacy always lingered in my peripheral vision, painting was my first creative calling. For years, I expressed myself through acrylics and oils on canvas, exploring color and form in the privacy of my own spaces since 2003.

It wasn't until MINT Gallery's 2020 holiday show that I publicly exhibited for the first time since having my own gallery way back in 2005. I felt I was finally stepping into the established art scene after years of development. Yet life had other plans for my artistic expression.

The Pandemic Pivot

When the world shut down in early 2020, I found myself drawn back to the camera, a tool that had fascinated me since childhood but had never been my primary medium. Walking the eerily quiet streets surrounding near home, I began documenting a city in pause, finding unexpected beauty in the stillness.

What began as a pandemic coping mechanism quickly evolved into something more substantial. The images I captured during those solitary walks eventually coalesced into my "BTNTRX" (Beaten Tracks) project, examining the historical intersection of race and railroads in Atlanta.

A Debut in Transition

Ironically, just six months after debuting my paintings at MINT Gallery, I found myself exhibiting photography at ARTiculate ATL's 2021 show, also hosted at MINT Gallery. Standing in that space, surrounded by my photographic work rather than paintings, marked a profound shift in my artistic identity.

What happened next sealed my fate as a photographer: all four prints sold. My first photography exhibition became my first complete sellout. The validation wasn't just encouraging—it was transformative.

I haven't touched a paintbrush since.

That 2021 show became the unofficial christening of my new path. The photographs displayed there represented not just a change in medium but a transformation in how I perceived my role as an artist—and how the market perceived me. Where my paintings had been expressions of internal landscapes, my photography became a dialogue with the external world—specifically, with Atlanta's rapidly changing urban environment. And apparently, that dialogue resonated with collectors in a way my painting never had.

The Circle Completes

Now, as I prepare for the June 7th Artful ATL show (the spiritual successor to ARTiculate ATL after its impressive 12-year run), I find myself at once a newcomer and a veteran. This will be my fourth appearance at this show and the 2nd in a row where I'll be premiering pieces from my current "Vanishing Point" project, work that will eventually comprise my next photo book.

The venue has changed. The name has changed. And even my fine art photography has transformed. Yet something essential remains: the power of community gathering spaces that allow artists to present work in dialogue with each other and with audiences seeking meaning.

The Road Ahead

Over the coming weeks, I'll be sharing my process as I prepare for this exhibition, from selecting the final images and determining their sizes to the technical aspects of printing, embellishing with LED backlighting, and installation. You'll have a front-row seat to every decision, challenge, and breakthrough.

These behind-the-scenes glimpses aren't just about documenting my preparation; they're about inviting you into the conversation between artist, work, and audience that makes these exhibitions so valuable. They're also about capturing the evolution of "Vanishing Point" as it moves from individual photographs toward a cohesive book.

As I walked through Atlanta Contemporary yesterday surveying my designated wall, I could already envision where my work might hang, how the light might catch the metallic prints, how the carefully positioned LED elements might enhance the urban landscapes. I felt that familiar mix of anticipation and anxiety that precedes any public showing.

Next time: I'll take you through the selection process as I determine which "Vanishing Point" images will make their public debut at Artful ATL. What criteria guide my choices? How do I envision these images in conversation with each other? Stay tuned.

Krog Street Blues: Finding My Voice

The moment I edited “Krog Street Blues,” I felt like I finally got it, I finally understood how to photograph with a vision. Made in September 2020, not long after I decided to get “serious” about my photography, this wasn't just a successful image; it was confirmation that I could create work that resonated with me and made me think, “I’d hang that on my wall!” Was it the bright daylight bursting through the end of the iconic Krog Street Tunnel illuminating layers upon layers of ever-changing, organic street art curation? Or, perhaps, was it the decades of memories I’d accumulated about that place revealing a story deeper and more timeless than the image portrays upon first viewing? Yes. All of that. It was all of that, and more.

This photograph became the cornerstone of my BTNTRX (Beaten Tracks) project, eventually finding its way into my first published photo book, BTNTRX.V1. This image also has unicorn status as being the only one in my collection that has traveled beyond conventional exhibition spaces, first as a projection on a wall as part of the ARTiculate ELEVATE ATL 2021 Block Party (November 2021), and later displayed on a digital billboard atop the Westin Peachtree Plaza hotel in downtown Atlanta as part of 6XTOne (January 2022), a city-wide exhibition in honor of the inauguration of Atlanta’s 61st Mayor, the honorable Andre Dickens. These unconventional displays taught me that photography could transcend the constraints of traditional presentation, allowing my work to interact with urban environments, the very same environments I was photographing, in ways I hadn't previously imagined.

Everything Will Be OK: Bridging Personal Vision and Public Connection

Made on New Year's Day, 2021, “Everything Will Be OK” marks the moment when I discovered that my artistic vision could forge genuine connections with others. This image, still among my top five favorites in my entire catalog, generated unexpected engagement across social media platforms and became one of the first four prints I exhibited in a formal gallery setting at ARTiculate ATL 2021 (June 2021). When it became the first photograph I ever sold, the experience affirmed that creating work I love and creating work that resonates with viewers weren't mutually exclusive pursuits.

Looking back, this photograph now carries additional significance as an unintentional precursor to my Vanishing Point project. The shopping center where this building was located has since been demolished and replaced with apartment buildings, another casualty of Atlanta's rapid gentrification. What began as a simple documentation of an evocative message became an inadvertent preservation of a space that held significant cultural memory for the city. The location once housed popular clubs (RIP Club XS) and stores that were landmarks in Atlanta's social history. In this way, “Everything Will Be OK” embodies all the central themes of my practice: finding artistic potential in overlooked places, preserving collective memory, and documenting urban transformation before it vanishes completely.

Cash In Cash Out: Defining My Photographic Language

“Cash In Cash Out” represents the moment my distinctive photographic style crystallized. For months, I circled this building, taking test shots from multiple angles in varying light conditions, sensing its potential but waiting for precisely the right conditions to transform it. When I woke one spring morning to find my neighborhood shrouded in fog, I knew immediately this was the day the building would reveal itself to me.

The very first frame confirmed what I had intuited—fog would add both drama and focus, softening the urban landscape while highlighting architectural details and textures. This approach of using specific atmospheric conditions to reshape familiar urban environments became the foundation of my Vanishing Point project and established what many now recognize as my signature style.

A version printed on sunset metallic paper was exhibited as part of Rigorous HOPE (Fall 2023) curated by Courtney Brooks at Pulgram Gallery in Atlanta. Later, a metallic print version, my preferred medium, was exhibited at ARTiculate ATL in June 2024, where it was acquired by a private collector. The journey of this image from concept to collection completed a circle that began with “Krog Street Blues,” confirming that my photographic practice had found not only its voice but its audience.

These three images mark the evolution from discovering I could make photographs I personally valued, to connecting with viewers who found meaning in my work, to developing a distinctive visual language that continues to define my practice. Each represents not just a technical achievement, but a milestone in understanding my relationship with photography as a medium for exploring place, memory, and transformation.