My eyes are drawn to fragments of reality. Collage and assemblage art came naturally to me—far more naturally than drawing or painting. I often like parts better than the whole to which they were originally attached, and my brain tends to segment the world into patterns and images unconnected to the whole. I’m annoying to walk with because many of the things that catch my eye are invisible to others, so I’m likely to stop suddenly and spend minutes peering at some conjunction of objects that is positively a marvel to me, but utterly banal to my companions.

Lines, shapes, patterns, and textures will all snag my attention, and often I’ll know in my gut that what I’m looking at will be beautiful if I post-process the image in a certain way. I have an acute sense of color, and so what looks dull to others is often pregnant with potential, if only I can boost the image saturation to match what I see in my mind.

A few of my friends have tried to look—really look—and see a bit of what I’m seeing when I’m staring at some (to them) unremarkable scene and murmuring, “Ooooh, the colors…” Those friends are not surprised when I explain that I see intense gradations of color they cannot perceive, and they share my excitement when I amp up the visuals so that the image in my head makes it to paper or screen. Some of these friends are far better photographers than I am, certainly in a technical sense. I strive to increase my technical mastery, but I’m grateful for the ability to see things most others overlook.