I went to Montana for the first time this spring. Driving from the airport to my destination, within the first ten minutes I had to pull over as I was overwhelmed by the landscape. One of the qualities that profoundly affected me was the vastness in every direction. Yet there was no one in sight and no other vehicle so that I could literally set my tripod up in the middle of the highway. The leftover melting patches of snow from the long winter (as it was March), the apparent randomness of those snow coverings, and the very real feeling of impermanence (the pressure to take the picture before the snow vanished as the news was predicting warm weather the following day) was an otherworldly and transcendent experience that I was not prepared for. My mother had died a year and a half ago and I was and am grieving the greatest loss I have ever experienced. My smallness in comparison to the space I stood in, my vulnerability that one can't help but feel on a highway, the incredible scraps of snow, the departed animals that were in my passage (once I closed in on what was near), the light-filled, bucolic setting, and the fact of my mother's passing, all of that is embedded in the pictures. Therefore, though I call the series "Somewhere", another title could be "Visions of Life and Death".