"The hand of the Lord came upon me, and he brought me out by the spirit of the Lord and set me down in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. He led me all around them; there were very many lying in the valley, and they were very dry. He said to me, 'Mortal, can these bones live?' I answered, 'O Lord God, you know.' Ezekiel 37 (NSRV)

Writing about his work of photography, Lago, Ron Jude describes the medium as a “poetic archaeology that, rather than attempting to arrive at something conclusive, looks for patterns and rhythms that create congruity out of the stuttering utterances of the visible world.” Ordinary Time applies this form of poetic archaeology to a part of contemporary life that exists in public—the lives of young people, disused and fading architecture, and nature—and in each image, searches for something transcendent beyond the documentary.

Creek near campus recalls the elemental origins of our earth: reddish soil and water that glimmers metallic. The graceful tangle of cables in Electric cable or gentle bend of metal in White gutter seem formed by an unseen hand. A haunting vision forms in Ill Noise, released from jail that day in which a man whose hands are tattooed with the contours of his bones obscure his face. Each image might be a facet of what we sense, but do not know, what we cannot easily describe, and what we have few answers for. "Mortal, can these bones live?" The simple question poses an unseen and unknowable possibility that one must choose to believe or not believe.