More About The Photographer

Gregory Hayes was not raised by wolves — nor did he spend his formative years being dragged from coast to coast in gypsy circus wagons — but was raised by loving parents who only wanted the best for him. Nonetheless, from an early age, Greg showed all the fatal signs of wolf-raisedness and gypsy-circusness, with a wild and restless mind and the itchiest of itchy feet. Soon, there could be no doubt: he was destined to become a storyteller.

He became a writer. A singer. An actor. A sometimes dancer, puppeteer, sculptor, filmmaker and — from a very early age — a photographer. Through all of these passions, the driving force behind Greg's expression is the desire to tell the story.

To tell it, one must experience it. From living too well in Hollywood to living on nothing in the rainforest; from a diet of squandered delicacies to the simplicity of daily bread; from Vienna's best food to Ventura Boulevard: everywhere he's gone and everything he's seen — and in everything he hopes yet to see — he has celebrated the pursuit of happiness.

That's the gist and the crux of every struggle. Every victory, every sob and every jubilant shout, every opportunity missed and every lesson hard learned, every funeral eulogy and every wedding dance, every cartoon villain and every comic convention hero costume ... melons, mudbaths, meteors, magic wands, mentors, matinees, mourning doves, molting crows, men in hats, motley fools, missing moons, misty lakes, mortals and myths, monuments grand, miniature babies born before their time ...

Happiness is ours to pursue, each in our own way, each with our own story. Be it in images, words, pantomime or song, Greg's happiness is to tell these stories.