Five years ago while traveling through the Italian landscape, I began experimenting with blurred imagery. As I sat there as a passive passenger, I found myself making up narratives as the landscapes whizzed by. I noticed how the photographs appeared to collapse space by removing contours, contrast, and perspective and, as a result, created a more subtle layering of light and shadow, color and luminosity. Weeks later as I reexamined the images, I realized what further distinguished them from other photographs of mine was that these were of places I had never been and spaces I had never occupied. The photographs alluded to spaces without describing them. At first I selected the more tangible images, but then I found myself submitting to the fleeting moments of the more unrecognizable images. These out-of-focus landscapes became more about the act of perception and interpretation than a literal recognition of the visual elements. What emerged out of the blur was not fixed and remained in a constant state of appearing. The images were more about the viewer than the viewed.