D Lawrence Barksdale

Artist Statement

For the better part of five decades, I've pointed cameras at everything from Fortune 500 boardrooms to five-star hotel lobbies, gourmet food that was almost too pretty to eat, products that desperately wanted to look expensive, and enough architecture to convince me that someone, somewhere, actually enjoys designing staircases.

Now, after a long commercial career, I've traded corporate deadlines for sunrises, mountain trails, winding back roads, and the occasional conversation with a suspicious-looking cow. It turns out landscapes are much easier to work with than marketing committees. They rarely ask for revisions.

My photography is driven by curiosity and the conviction that extraordinary moments are usually hiding inside ordinary places. I enjoy creating images that balance what is plainly visible with what is merely suggested, inviting viewers to slow down, look again, and perhaps notice something they almost missed. Whether I'm photographing a weathered barn, a dramatic western landscape, an abstract play of light, or crafting digital artwork inspired by the natural world, my goal is to create work that lingers in the mind long after the viewer has walked away.

As a person of faith, I believe beauty isn't something we manufacture; it's something we discover. Every landscape, changing season, shaft of light, and quiet moment whispers that there is meaning beneath the surface of everyday life. While my work isn't always overtly religious, it is almost always shaped by that perspective. I hope my photographs encourage viewers to pause, breathe, and remember that wonder still exists—even in a world that often moves too fast to notice it.

These days I'm semi-retired, which apparently means I work almost as much as I ever did—only now I get to photograph what I love, mentor other photographers, travel America's back roads, and occasionally explain to puzzled strangers why I willingly wake up at 4:00 a.m. just to stand in the cold waiting for "the light." Photographers understand. Everyone else thinks we're a little odd.

If my work accomplishes anything, I hope it reminds people that beauty is rarely in a hurry, that mystery can be more compelling than certainty, and that sometimes the best view isn't found at the end of the trail—it appears when we simply stop long enough to notice it.