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The experts tell me I'm about to run you off. Not because of the question I just asked—or for suggesting I can show you the answer through my lens. No, that's not it...

It's because I'm a shitty marketer.

Rather than hit you with an algorithm-tuned, A/B tested message built on buzzwords and calls to action proven to "convert," I'm going to do something radical here and treat you like a human being—no gimmicks, no bribes, no AI-optimized neurolinguistic trickery.

I don't want a moment's more mindshare than my words have rightfully earned—which brings us back to the original question: Who are you?

Your search for an answer began a long time ago—with a kid tracing the shape of his father’s shadow...

Then one day,
you imagined a life of adventure—
and the mirror was patient.

Boyhood dreams die slowly...

In time, you grew up
and started pointing at your career—
and still, the mirror waited.

But the paycheck wasn’t enough...

When you found love,
you found a piece of yourself—
and the mirror cracked a smile.

But the ride was just beginning...

Blessed with a family,
you pointed at them—
and the mirror seemed satisfied.

But the world says you can have it all...

So you took chances,
stacked wins, lived large—
and the mirror? Just jealous.

But now, it all feels like a lie...

Something's off. You've felt it for a while, and despite the growing emptiness as a warning, the mirror startled you when it broke its silence:

Hey, buddy—remember me?

Now more than ever, it’s a question that demands an answer. The future we’re on a collision course with is being built around machines designed to think for us by default—machines that are already in the process of revaluing, if not replacing you.

Which makes it the question, really.

After years of finger pointing, it’s clear: The what, the how, the why—they’re not the answer.

They’re the mask.

At some point, the mirror stops asking. Not because it’s bought your line of bullshit, but because the stakes keep going up. Fail to answer, and mediocrity sets in. You get lazy, you get fat, you get weak. You lose your edge—and whatever safety net you thought you were working with.

Dodge it long enough, and in time it’ll get asked by someone who loves you—on their way to becoming someone who leaves you.

The mirror will be there—waiting, as long as it takes, however much it hurts—until the day you show up with nothing left to point to.

In the quiet, in the questions—in the friction you find in the mirror. But at some point, the work reaches a threshold where it requires someone else. Not to motivate. Not to save—but to witness.

I believe Man is a unique expression of divine light—made in the image, powered by sacred voltage, leaning into the friction that reveals the true self...

Where he comes from.

What he’s here to do.

Who he’s always been.

The journey isn’t measured in miles or years. We endure it as long as we must, until the man emerges—standing in truth with himself, embracing the exceptionalism that is his birthright.

Adrift, a man’s power has a half-life, but in ascension it is exponential. This is why a single day lived apart from your true self becomes the tragedy of a lifetime.

Unless you change the game.

Every moment is an opportunity to begin fulfilling your promise as a singular expression of divine potential—one that has never existed before, and never will again.

This is youjitsu—the art of being you.

and I see people—from the inside-out. I'm a full-time photographer, a part-time athlete, and a some-times author whose story is still being written...

A husband, married 27 years to a woman he doesn't deserve. A proud father, with two well-adjusted adult children. A warrior dancing with cancer since 2023 and wrestling with ego his entire life—the same ego that wants you know this message comes from me, not ChatGPT. A man blessed on the one hand, broken on the other—like you.

But unlike you, I've spent the past 20 years shedding skin behind a camera and between people’s ears, where it’s never really been about taking pictures.

It's about being seen...

SELFIE • 2025

...stripped-down, unashamed—not in the function of what you do, but in the fire of who you are.

We 're all works of art,
waiting to be seen.

Transformation isn’t real until it’s been witnessed by another human—reflected back with honesty and reverence. It's what turns a state of mind into a state of being; it’s how a boy becomes a man.

For two decades, I’ve stood in this gap—the space between who a person was and who they are becoming. Not as a coach, but as a witness to the friction, to the fire, to the ascension—theirs and my own.

They may look like ordinary headshots, but there's something extraordinary humming beneath the surface: The metafrequency of transformation—the pieces they said weren’t enough. The light they stopped holding back. The truth once forgotten, remembered.

I don't capture people;
I free MINDS.

My lens isn’t a camera. It's a blade—cutting away what no longer serves; revealing that which was never meant to be hidden. Forged in the living fire of failure and fortune, tragedy and triumph, loneliness and love...all of it channeled into this gift I have for witnessing light in others.

Reflecting.

Focusing.

Amplifying.

It’s not a skill that I learned—it’s something I carry into battle against the demons that separate a man from the truth of himself.

Like water, it takes the shape of its container, so if at this point all you want is help beating the machine for a fraction of a second on camera, let's talk headshots.

On the other hand...

The fact that you've made it this far suggests you're starting to remember the truth. Affleck may have looked the part—but it's Bale who defined the role. That kind of greatness demands focus, clarity, and practice—all of which I can give you.

For most of the men I work with, it unfolds in a half-day INTENSIVE; for some, it's a weekend IMMERSION. For you? It could be a deep-dive INDUCTION—your on-ramp to a SoulSword Experience.

I can't wait to talk to you about these, especially what it means to "Be the Blade," but this isn't the time for nuts & bolts. For now, just know that:

These practices are powered by the process illuminated in my book Chasing Light, and
Whichever door you choose, you can expect to emerge clearer, stronger, sharper—with an image that doesn’t just speak for you—it speaks to you.

DISCLOSURE: This is the point where someone else would be pitching you their version a five-figure Zoom coaching program.

And there would be nothing wrong with that—as long as you're aware that AI does dialogue-driven self-discovery better than any off-the-rack Instacoach.

More than likely than not, the ones you're following on Instagram are just motivational middleman passing ChatGPT insights off as their own.

I don't know about you, but I've invested tens of thousands of dollars on coaching over the years—rookie numbers compared to some guys I know, but here's what I can tell you from experience:

If you’re looking for a paint by numbers “success system”—this isn’t it.

If you need someone else to be accountable to other than yourself—I'm not your guy.

If you want to join a transformational mens' group, I can recommend a couple programs where the brotherhood is baked-in.

Why would I turn away coaching income? Because I’m not here to sell self-discovery—I’m here to witness it.

And light the way
IF NEED BE.

The way through is IN

That voice you hear in your head? The one whispering: This is bullshit—just re-commit to your goals...

That? That would be your lesser self—and he's been hanging around finger-pointing all these years, afraid of what happens to him if you embrace the exceptionalism that is your birthright.

Is it time for you to return to yourself? Only you can say, but here's what I do know:

If you leave it up to the enemy, and he will choose the moment for you—when you’re at your weakest; when the friction is too much.

Today, that friction presents itself as a 9’ tall, 500lb door—with a gift awaiting you on the other side. It swings on ball-bearings, but it can't open itself...

I'm 56 years old on the back nine of a blessed life—training hard, riding free, and grateful for every day I get to witness God’s light in my fellow man. Getting to reveal that piece of it they’d forgotten? That’s heaven to me—and the kingdom within us both.

Meanwhile, back here on earth—between my Harley and my cancer, life insurance wants nothing to with me—but their actuarial tables suggest I’ve got about 7 million minutes left in the bank...

AND I'M GIVING 30
OF THEM TO YOU

You earned it. Most people tapped-out 1,500 words ago, so come hang out. Hell, I'll even let you jump in front of my camera and walk away with a free profile photo—not to be confused with the high-YQ experience you’ve been reading about. This would be a drink-from-the-firehose, diamond-in-the-rough placeholder til you come back to me—on fire and ready to be witnessed.

They’re your minutes—how we use them is up to you:

Want to talk health & healing with a stage II cancer patient thriving on naturopathic therapy?

Want to talk fire & fitness with the #1 55+ shot putter in the world?

Want to talk faith & family with a guy who's been blessed with both?

IT'S YOUR CALL. We can put on our tinfoil hats and talk psyops, or chat about that one question from my book that’s got you stumped.

Or—we could sit in silence, sipping bourbon by the fire, and let the truth speak for itself.

I AM