For most of my life, walking, seeing, and making photographs have been ritual acts of presence, ways to make sense of my internal felt experiences and perceptions of the external world. In his essay, Beauty in Photography, Robert Adams, asks, “Is art sufficient consolation for life? Can Beauty make suffering tolerable?” Photography, he suggests, has the capacity to offer us something powerful, “...maybe, we hope, we can find the Truth by just looking.” In this way, I am trying to see and to point in that seeing, to the reality that terrible things happen, and sit, side-by-side, with sublime beauty; a volatile mix of interbeing, contingency, and precariousness.