Charming, flexible, sturdy, beautiful, unique---a few virtuous words we use to describe wood. America and its people have been seamlessly ingrained with the wood that formed this nation. We are blessed with tradition---a tradition epitomized by our structures and their precious relics. So much of our lives until now have been framed by the strength of lumber, and this comforting legacy has survived the introduction of iron and steel, the industrial revolution, and lingers on even into the modern, electronic era of present. I have a special place in my heart for these rustic boards; these planks are the fabric of lives and are emblematic of our values.

For me, planks are more than just pieces of timber sawed to measure 2 to 6 inches thick, 9 inches or more wide, and 8 feet or more long. They can serve as a metaphor for every element of our social nature. They can embody certain facets of a human personality. For example: we cling to the strongest around us, and we work best when bonded together. We admire the flexibility of the most innovative people in our society. We love to be around charming speakers, to enjoy beautiful scenes, and the individuality every human being brings into the equation. These are the planks that build and define one's character.

Blessed, too, was I to have grown up in an area still populated with beautiful wooden barns. I remember one summer day as I rode in our old Chevy with a load of hay to deliver, and hearing my father utter, “What a shame! The way they let it go like that. A good barn will last forever if you just keep a roof over it.” Then when I heard these words echoed again, I realized how quickly these treasures were fading away. From our barns to the hammers that constructed them; from our docks to the boats they harbor, every scrap of wood is being replaced by metals, plastics, polymers and everything else.

As I grew up and began photographing the world, I felt drawn to the wooden structures, even those that have tumbled down, that thankfully still exist around me. In my work, these planks are sometimes prominent, held high and glorified. Other times, the planks are the unsung heroes, often overlooked, but vitally necessary. Even the steel of our railroads rests and depends upon their lumber ties for stability and direction. Planks can exemplify our strength and our heritage, or they can evidence our manifest mortality and the obstacles we face. Whatever the case, these are inescapably the planks of our lives and I hope to preserve both their image and their sentiment before they fade away completely into our ever-changing and neglecting world.