"Everything great is deep, hidden, below the surface; and only to those who dare to descend does it reveal itself."
Unknown
I recently vacationed in the American southwest and one of the highlights of the trip was the visit to Lower Antelope Canyon, a bucket list item for any photographer. My initial goal was simple: capture the perfect, iconic image (see above) and some “cool shots”. But I came away with much more as the 1 hour journey revealed a universal truth: to truly understand and experience, we must go below the surface.
If you were to walk past this place without a guide, you might miss it entirely. From the surface, the landscape looks like nothing more than a scorched, flat riverbed—a stretch of dusty red orange earth baking under the Arizona sun. It is defensive. It is uniform. It gives nothing away.
But the Navajo know this place as Hazdistazí—”where the rock arches are spiraling.”
And suddenly, the flat, red earth reveals itself to be a cathedral of light and stone.
From the canyon floor, the light reveals what water and wind have carved over millions of years.
NOTE: Click on any image in the following galleries to see a larger version or to scroll through the gallery.
Contrast and Color
Without light, the canyon would be hidden in darkness. With too much light, overexposed and devoid of detail. The slot canyon allows just enough light to bring out the colors while also providing dramatic contrast throughout. In many of my images, I’ve emphasized this contrast by shifting the shadows to blues and purples and the highlights to yellows and oranges with reds in the midtones.
One of my favorites is “the rose”. This is mainly because it was not something the tour guide shared with us, but rather something I discovered as I was reviewing the images I captured. It required rotating the image 90 degrees and exaggerting the red and blue colors, but otherwise, unaltered.
Character
The canyon reveals its true character when you strip out, or limit, the color. What remains is the pure language of the canyon: light, shadow, and the persistent hand of time. These images are the canyon’s soul, laid bare. It is here that images of the canyon stops being a postcard and starts being a portrait.
I photographed Lower Antelope Canyon because I was captivated by its geology and the opportunity to capture some great images and share them with others, but upon reflection, I realized the experience was more than just a collection of images.
I see myself in these walls. Like this canyon, we all present a surface to the world—a protective layer that is often flat, dry, and unremarkable. We build this surface to survive the elements. But our true depth, our most vibrant colors, and our most interesting shapes are not found up there. They are found deep below, carved out by the very things that threatened to break us down.
Geologists will tell you that this canyon is the result of violence. For millions of years, flash floods have raged through these slots, tearing at the sandstone. It was trauma that created this beauty. The water didn’t just erode the rock; it sculpted it. It turned rigid stone into waves that look soft enough to breathe.
We are all slot canyons. We are all deeper than we look. You just have to be willing to look below the surface.
P.S. I’m considering turning this into a photo book or “zine”. If you think I should go for it and it might be something you’d be interested in, please let me know in the comments.
As always, thanks again for engaging!




