East Lawn Palms Cemetery, 780nm IR

I love cemetery photography. All kinds, but especially infrared. Together, they're an ever-evolving lesson in the nature of liminality. 

When we think of liminality, it's usually dark corners and empty places that seem imbued with the spirit of whatever busy energy used to hang around in the space. I get those cool vibes too, but cemetery photography in infrared has taught me about another kind of liminality: the one that sits squarely between our perception of what's a dream and what's real.

I've been a lucid dreamer my entire life. But you know what I didn't know until I became a photographer? The vast majority of my dreams are in infrared. It's strange and glorious and reassuring to feel like I'm in touch with a veil, a liminiality...something inside myself that's greater than me. There's no better definition of art. 

The light was very strange today at East Lawn. Of course, when I look at these photos, my thinking brain hounds me:

"Maybe it was the weirdly low cirrus clouds."

"Maybe it was the sun playing hide and seek with the summer haze."

"Maybe some disgrunted spirit was toying with the lens."

Idk. Maybe I should just stare into the void and be okay with my gut when it tells me "Shut up, already. It was eerie and wildly liminal out there."

I love it. The absolute best.