Provincetown was built on the sea. Settled by Portuguese fishermen, it evolved into a celebrated art colony before becoming the tourist destination it is today - but the maritime workers are still here, and their story deserves to be told.

This past year, I went to Ol Pejeta Conservancy in the Kenyan highlands. Watching two rhinos graze, they could have been boulders holding up the sky. Najin, the mother. Fatu, her daughter.

They are the last two northern white rhinos on Earth.

I wept.

The white rhino has roamed in Africa for 5-7 million years. In the 1970s, 500 remained. Poachers came for their horns. By 2008, the subspecies was extinct in the wild. When Sudan, the last male, died in 2018, an evolutionary thread stretching back before humanity was severed forever.

As we begin 2026, I find myself reflecting on Provincetown and what it means to stay—to remain rooted in a place you love as it changes around you.

I came here as a young creative in the 1970s. I am now an old creative in the 2020s.

My business remains defiantly local, a holdout against the corporate wave that keeps rolling in. I am part of a wonderful, creative photography group that thrives under the umbrella of The Commons. My friends are old-time fishermen whose families worked these waters for centuries, builders who shaped this town board by board, washashores who chose this place as I did, and the newly arrived who are writing the next chapter.

In October 2023, I had the privilege of participating in an artist retreat on Cumberland Island, Georgia, led by artist and photographer Anne Berry.

I am so excited and honored that I won Best In Show last at the 24th Annual Photography Exhibition at the Creative Arts Center in Chatham