The 100 Day Project, Day 39. I’m drawn to abstraction, especially when it emerges from the ordinary. There’s something compelling about reshaping familiar objects into something unexpected — revealing details we overlook simply because we see them too often.

The 100 Day Project, Day 38. Yesterday when I printed on that stunning Hahnemühle Photo Rag Metallic paper, I knew that this photo — Rivulets in Rose Gold— would be today’s image. The silvery metallic surface is the perfect way to capture the shimmering of the sea in this photo. The printed artwork is simply stunning.

The 100 Day Project, Day 36. The day was cold, drizzly, and very windy. Diamond Beach in southern Iceland is not a place that coddles you. That day it demanded my full attention — the black pebble beach, the roaring surf, the pelting rain. No horizon visible, just a milky fog heavy on the shoreline turning the car-sized icebergs floating out to sea into ghost-like figures.

The 100 Day Project, Day 35. I'm on the hunt for moments of joy. The last few years have been full of transition, caring for parents, and trying to survive the chaos of the world — so when I find little pockets of delight I soak them up. Finding these fluffy, bright flowers was one of those moments. Known as fífa in Icelandic — cotton grass in English — they charmed me immediately.

The 100 Day Project, Day 34. I’ve photographed these vintage wood bobbers every single time I have visited our friend Kip’s family home on Vinalhaven Island in Maine. They are more than just fishing gear to me; they’re like little portkeys, transporting me back in time to the rugged, salt-aired history of the island.

The 100 Day Project, Day 33. I made this photograph — Alone Together — moments after Wave Longing, the image I shared on Day 1, the one that hangs in my bedroom and changes every time I look at it. Same beach. Same afternoon. I had simply turned right and walked a few paces.

The 100 Day Project, Day 32. We never quite know where the journey will take us. We change lanes. Merge into others. We exit life paths we thought we'd travel forever and find ourselves on roads we never planned to take.

The 100 Day Project, Day 31. I photograph a lot of water. I grew up canoeing and tubing on the Illinois River as it wraps around Siloam Springs, Arkansas. In high school and college in the San Francisco Bay Area, I had the Pacific Ocean to escape to. For years I lived in landlocked states — Arizona, Nebraska — and felt the absence of it in ways I couldn't quite name. Now I live minutes from the beaches of Lake Ontario. The water always finds me, or I find my way back to it.

The 100 Day Project, Day 30. This tiny fragment of ice came from a glacier. A small, translucent remnant, washed ashore on the black sand beach at Breiðamerkursandur — known as Diamond Beach — in southeast Iceland. The Jökulsárlón glacier lagoon calves its ice into the sea, and the ocean returns these last fragments to the shore, polished and luminous, like precious stones.

The 100 Day Project, Day 29. This is Dettifoss — the most powerful waterfall in Europe, located in northern Iceland. I made this photograph with my sweet vintage Yashica, a medium format film camera that travels with me often. I love it because it forces me to slow down, to compose, to be intentional about every image I see before I make it.

The 100 Day Project, Day 28. I want to print this photo really big. So big you will feel like you can step right into it and take a walk across the high plains of northern Iceland as the sun falls toward the horizon and rakes its light across the wildflowers.

The 100 Day Project, Day 27. I have been noticing that my practice is gravitating toward images like this one. Quiet. Intimate. Still. It’s a reflection of the calm I seek and try to create in my life, after years of transition after transition.

The 100 Day Project, Day 26. This is a rare self-portrait. I don't often turn the lens on myself — not out of discomfort, but because I am far more fascinated by other people. The world is endlessly more interesting to me than my own reflection.

The 100 Day Project, Day 25. A sliver of a face. Silver hair caught mid-movement, dissolving into soft gray air. The depth of field is razor thin — in focus on one side, gone on the other. Much like the way we present ourselves to the world.

The 100 Day Project, Day 24. "The language." Two words written in chalk on concrete. A fragment that is also a complete thought. Who owns it? Who gets to use it? Who gets to decide what it means? These are not new questions. They are ancient ones.

The 100 Day Project, Day 23. How many women's hands have held chalk — made words for others to consume, to learn from? Chalk words. Temporary by design. Fleeting. Easily blurred. Washed away.

The 100 Day Project, Day 22. I am not a "natural American" — and I bet you aren't either. Unless you can trace your ancestry to a Native American tribe on this continent before it was "discovered" by European sailors, you come from a line of immigrants who came to this land in search of a better life.

The 100 Day Project, Day 21. The frame is divided almost perfectly down the middle. On the left, a figure in military fatigues moving under cold green light. On the right, an American flag draped over a figure standing in darkness, a blade in hand. A wall between them. Two realities occupying the same space without ever touching.

The 100 Day Project, Day 20. The beauty and wellness industries have always known what they're selling: the idea that women should come in one flavor, one size. That there is a correct version of a woman, and you are probably not quite her yet — but for the right price, you could be.

The 100 Day Project, Day 19. We tend to think of clarity as the goal — sharp edges, full information, a moment captured. In photography, it is often someone else's clarity that you gaze upon. For me, I gravitate to images that I cannot quickly interpret. Artworks that force me to pause, to quiet my mind, to look, to find my own meaning.