The Uncommon Angler
My thesis portfolio from the Maryland Institute College of Art. 
The trout rose feverishly to my Rusty Dun. The spent mayfly bodies fell to the river so thickly that the feeding trout resembled boiling water upon a woodstove. The air felt cool into the passing of last light, and a handful of friends harmonized bluegrass tunes down a backwoods trail. Friends and family have left us, many at the hands of their own vices. Yet, we still find each other casting along the rivers, even when we least expect each other’s company. Our shared addiction seems to keep us alive.