Shadows come from light, not darkness.
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On a bright July morning, my shadow stretched out like a long arm in the sand. In the dawn light, the beach with all its ripples, craters and footprints was revealed. I reached in my pocket, pulled out my camera and took a picture of my silhouette on the newly awakened sand. This was the simple beginning of ShadowMan.
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As I went about my days, I frequently found myself surprised, even stunned by great light. Light that revealed a new and sudden beauty, often in the mundane.
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In these moments I dropped what I was doing and became obsessed with the urgency of capturing what I saw before the light, and my shadow, disappeared.
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Walls and windows. Bushes and bricks. Trees and towers. In nature, in cities and in between. Beauty has no boundaries, nor did my subjects.
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I became fascinated and challenged by my shadow. It was the constant companion to great light. Like each moment, it was never the same. As the light disappeared, so did my shadow.
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Again and again I realized that I only had one shot at a scene so I better take it. Whenever I tried to return to a scene to take the same picture, it was gone. My shadow therefore served as a reminder of our fleeting presence.
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It's now two and a half years after that July beach moment. ShadowMan is now an expansive collection of adventures and stories. I'm thrilled to share them with you.
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I want to take you to the places I went and for you to see what I saw. I want you to see what amazing light revealed in nature, cities and in between. I want you see things with your own eyes and to ask and wonder. I want you to step into the shadow and claim your own story.
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In the process, you too may find or share your own light.

Tom H. Kuhn
January 2009