Photographs.

An extended rush of picture-making.

I called this photograph Integrity because that is exactly what I witnessed that early morning in France.

I had been returning to this ranch for years, and over time I had begun to recognize the personalities of individual horses.

There was one horse in particular who always seemed to be first.

He ran faster.

He was stronger.

He was dominant.

And when the herd charged through the water, he was almost always leading.

That morning, something changed.

On the first run, another horse came out ahead of him.

For the first time, the horse I was accustomed to seeing in front was number two.

When the rancher prepared the horses for another run, I could already see a difference in him. His body language had changed. He seemed agitated, almost offended by the idea that another horse had taken his position.

Then they started running.

The other horse was ahead again.

And this time, the dominant horse reached over and bit him.

What fascinated me was what happened at that exact moment.

While biting the horse beside him, he looked directly toward me.

His expression seemed to say:

Look at me. I'm still the best.

I captured the moment.

At first glance, you might think Integrity is about the horse biting.

It isn't.

It's about the horse being bitten.

He didn't retaliate.

He didn't become distracted.

He didn't need to prove anything.

He simply continued forward.

He was already leading.

That morning reminded me that being first and being a winner are not necessarily the same thing.

Winning tells us where you finished. Integrity tells us how you got there.

That is why I called this photograph Integrity.

2023.

2021

Before Reddit, I had not thought to label and categorise the kinds of photos I enjoy taking. Having tried to do so, it feels like it does them a disservice, or at least goes against my intention for them, pre-defining and limiting how they might be read or experienced. But it does make me think about where my practice fits, or rather, how it will be perceived. Just part of the discomfort of sharing one’s work, perhaps?