“We'd better get back, 'cause it'll be dark soon, and they mostly come at night... mostly”
-Newt from movie Aliens
As a child, I remember staying up late at a friend’s house to watch Alien on HBO, then walking home alone in the dark. It was very dark. I was certain the faint porch light of the houses would not be enough to protect me from the aliens and strange things hiding in the trees, bushes, cars, and shadows of the neighborhood. That half-block felt endless. I was sure something was coming for me. It remains one of my earliest memories of being afraid of the dark.
Now, older and 95% certain that acid-blooded aliens are not waiting around every dark corner, photographing at night still carries a heightened tension and excitement absent from my daytime work. Limited light and overwhelming darkness awaken a sense of mystery offers an awareness that things are not always as they seem.
What fascinates me most is how artificial light transforms color and space. Streetlights cast otherworldly hues; shadows distort familiar forms. I am also drawn to what people choose to illuminate at night and what they leave concealed.
The act of working at night itself has become the discipline. Slowing down, standing still in the dark, waiting for the exposure to unfold forces a heightened awareness of my surroundings. The process demands patience and presence, strengthening my connection to each location all while still leaving room for that lingering five percent chance of an alien in the shadows.
