One way of seeing.
Geometry is a language. Form is what it speaks, and light is how it reaches the eye. This is a record of reading both.
It starts from a single idea: beauty comes from structure.
Symmetry, proportion, the curve of a line, the way light falls across a surface. These are already in a thing before anyone photographs it or writes it down, part of how it was made.
Look closely at anything and there is a structure to read, and mathematics underneath. Most of the work is learning to see it.
The work is photographs and writing, held together by a single way of looking.
It can be a portrait, a building, a repeating pattern, or a note on how a lens gathers light. Whatever the subject, the structure comes first, and the rest follows.
Some of it is rigorous, some is just a photograph kept for its own sake, and both belong.
An engineer who reads languages.
The way of seeing here comes from engineering, and from a long pull toward mathematics, physics, and the structure of language, which are really one subject. Mathematics sits beneath physics, beneath the light in a photograph, beneath the logic of a program. Photography is where it meets the world. What fills this notebook is part rigorous study, part wherever curiosity led.