As you can tell from my website, my name is Patrick Morris. Thank you for taking the time to find out more about me. I have a BFA in Photography from the University of North Florida. Though I travel at every given opportunity, I still call Jacksonville, Florida, my home.
This website serves as an outlet for my work and allows me to share it with you. I will try to keep it up to date as much as possible. If you would like to hire me or see my rates, please check my rates page.
Since you’ve decided to take the time to read about me, let me explain my art to you.
It’s obvious that we live in a world in constant flux. Tides shift beach sands and storms alter forests. For instance, just a few years ago, I was in Arches National Park. My friend and I posed underneath one of the arches to show that we’d actually been there and had a good time. Not long after, I read in the news that that very arch collapsed and crumbled to the ground. All that’s left of it are photographs.
Some examples of nature’s beauty can be seen in the works of 19th century photographers such as William Henry Jackson. We should be completely envious of photographers of his generation. He was one of the first photographers to explore the American West. He was able to see such amazing and untouched beauty. Though the most of the places he photographed still look similar, it’s impossible now to see them without signs of man, be it a road, dirt path, a sign, or a fence. Even if there are no immediate signs, look around. Way out in the desert or in the middle of a forest, one can always look up and see a contrail from a jet or a trail made by man. How lucky were these people to see such untouched wonder?
This is not to say, however, that I only wish to capture untouched landscapes. Even in man’s world, he is never happy with what he’s built and always seeks to improve or replace it. Beautiful old buildings are left to rot or their lots are cleared to make way for a new shopping center with infinitely less character and intrinsic worth. Imagine famous pictures of buildings from turn-of-the-century New York City and how proud they were of buildings like the Flatiron building. It seems wise to capture today’s pride upon which future generations can look back.
In the court system, eye witness testimonies have become one of the least reliable forms of evidence. Why? Because our memories are both fleeting and subjective. Likewise with the places we visit, we can go and see it, but our memories remember what they want and then fade. I have always had a wanderlust and love seeing the natural things that this world has to offer, but if I’m going to forget the things I have seen, what’s the point? My photographs give me the opportunity to continuously spark a fading memory back into existence. Just as we remember something with a particular bias, be it happy or sad, my photography is likewise idealized to represent the subject matter in the way I would like to remember it, not necessarily the way it was. What you see in my photography is a window into how I see the world. The things I show you are what I feel are important and beautiful.
An innovative landscape photographer is able to form an intimate connection with his subject matter. He will sit in a spot for hours on end, waiting on the perfect light. He’ll constantly return to the same location after countless unsuccessful attempts just because there’s something about that spot that’s magical–eventually a great image will result. By becoming familiar with a scene, I am able to capture it at its most beautiful moment.
Finally, I also enjoy showing a sense of scale in my imagery. I think it adds a personal touch to an image you might see dozens of times before you notice the small details. I feel that we’re such tiny creatures in an amazingly large universe. It’s fun to show the viewer just how big and magnificent some of these subjects are. Without showing something like people on the bow of a boat in front of a glacier or my own shadow cast from a cliff, grasping the magnitude of an object or scene could otherwise be very difficult on a computer screen or print.