New Orleans is a neighborhood of dichotomies. The drunk dances past the priest. The broke parade between the rich. Inequalities are inflated here. In a city where the young grow up fast and the old are desperate to be young again, soft spots are harder to come by. The truth is, its as easy to criticize New Orleans as it is to celebrate it. But all the celebrating and critique seems to me empty of perspective and representation that is gentler. Only Here is grace for a town on the brink.

Only Here

2016 –

Billy Hingle claims to be the first — he surfed Grand Isle in the 60s. But when Keegan set out to surf the bayou, on an island that is literally washing away, he had no inkling of any tradition before him. This is a hyper-local narrative of a dream turned brand turned community, and what's been discovered along the way. The spirit of 

 is distilled in its founder's personality — determinedly lost and living offbeat; searching for something more. Through the redemption arch of a dear friend, I explore the fragility of modern masculinity and how a sense of belonging and true passion can transcend and heal. Along the way we meet like-minds, sufferers, and pioneers.

Pontcha Surf Club

2016 –

I don't go looking for lonely things — but still what emerges is a theme of solitude through discarded objects, decaying forms, or unusual scenes. Looseleaf is my affection for what is overlooked in the transience of life; an ongoing practice in original intrigue and gut reaction. What at first may seem banal or unlovely becomes easier to appreciate in the right light.

“What I capture in spite of myself interests me more than my own ideas.”
— Picasso

Looseleaf

“𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝙺𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑, 

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙰 𝚏𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚟𝚊𝚜, 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝. 𝙸𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜.”

In 1967, Elise Wildey became fond of my uncle Keith's paintings — my grandparents would showcase his youthful art on the streets of the French Quarter. Keen on reconnecting, Elise (Lady Mike) wrote Keith, inviting the family to her home in Jean Lafitte. “Here it is peaceful and quiet. The beauty of the flowing bayou, right outside my door.”

'Lady Mike' is a map of serendipitous connections, an atlas for personal grounding, and affirmation of my own artistic bent.

Personal Works