V / Latest
A living journal of original stories, photography, field notes, and ideas from people paying attention to the world around them.
August 2026. My Yellowstone spoof. No ranch, no cattle, just a cowboy hat, a leather jacket, and my best John Dutton stare. I may not own a thousand acres, but I can look like I have a few rules about the fence line.
The newest work from V, presented in a clean, conversation-first stream.
July 2016. Dawne and I, holding each other close in the warm evening light. I still see the happiness in her smile and remember how lucky I felt in that moment. Years may pass, but this is the kind of memory I will always keep.
June 2016. I still love this photo of Dawne. Her smile, the warm light, and that look in her eyes bring me right back. Years have passed, but some moments never lose their meaning. I am grateful this one was captured.
July 27, 2001. Three frames of Dawne and me, smiling under the evening lights. What I remember most isn't the camera or the flowers. It's how happy I was standing beside her. Some moments stay with you forever.
July 27, 2001. Dawne and I, dressed up under the evening lights. One photo smiling together, the next catching that little glance between us. Twenty-five years later, I still treasure those moments. ❤️
July 27, 2001. Dawne and I, dressed up and smiling together. Four photos that take me straight back to that evening—the flowers, the laughter, and how lucky I felt standing beside her. Some memories never fade. ❤️
November 2020. Autumn colors, a little sunshine, and a moment worth keeping. Looking back at this photo, I’m reminded how much can change—and how the simplest memories can still bring me right back. 🍂
Dawne at 18, reimagined. Coffee in hand, that unforgettable smile. This isn't an old photograph, but it captures something I still carry with me. Time moves forward; love doesn't disappear. ❤️
Two snapshots, one moment in time. 2026 has taught me to appreciate the little things, embrace the imperfections, and keep moving forward. No filters on life. Just me, one day at a time. 📸
Summer 2025, on replay. Sunsets over the lake, bright lights, and moments I wish I could hold onto a little longer. Summer's over, but some memories refuse to fade. 🌅
Summer's over, and this photo takes me right back to 2025. Coffee in hand, feet up, and lake days moving at their own pace. Seasons change, but I'm grateful for the quiet moments that stay with me. ☕
Christmas 2023 with Joey. Cozy on the couch, bundled up, and stealing a quiet moment together. Sometimes the simplest pictures end up meaning the most. ❤️
June 2024 with Joey. Nothing fancy, just one of those ordinary days that somehow turns into a favorite memory. I love this picture of us. ❤️
Christmas 2018 with Joey. One of those simple moments I’m grateful we stopped to capture—just us, the tree, and a little holiday magic. ❤️
2016. Dawne and me, just being us. I’d give anything for one more ordinary afternoon like this. Some photos don’t just capture a moment—they keep part of a life close. ❤️
I have spent a lot of time building this application, but somewhere along the way I realized I was building more than software. I was building a place for stories. The technology matters. The database matters. The architecture matters. The pages have to load, the links have to work, the publishing system has to be reliable, and the application has to be able to grow. But none of those things are the reason I kept working on it. The reason is much simpler. I wanted a place where people, ideas, photogr...
My stroke did not end when I left the hospital. That may be one of the hardest things to explain about surviving one. There is the emergency itself, and then there is everything that comes afterward—the work of figuring out what changed, what may improve, what still needs to be retrained, and what may simply become part of your new normal. I still live with lasting effects. There is weakness and stiffness on my left side. My left leg does not always move as naturally as it once did, and I have had to consc...
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