Marcus Stratton, Photographer

Ongoing  and Select Past Works

Landscapes

One of the great gifts of my childhood was the freedom to explore. Growing up on the west side of Topeka, I was surrounded by a neighborhood full of kids, but to the north and west lay open, accessible countryside. It was during those early days of wandering beyond the familiar streets that I first experienced the unique solitude of nature—and the freedom that comes with getting lost in exploration. That sense of discovery has been a central theme in my life ever since.

Eventually, I adopted photography as a passion. Early in my career, I studied Ansel Adams and his Zone System for exposing the negative; through his lens, I developed a deep admiration for Yosemite National Park. In 2025, after four decades of admiring it from afar, I finally visited. The landscape was beyond anything I could have imagined, yet it wasn’t just the grandeur that moved me. As I photographed, I realized that whether in the high peaks of Yosemite or the rolling expanses of the Flint Hills, the real journey is an internal one.

For 24 years, my home was in Wamego, Kansas, and it kept me just a short drive from the heart of the Flint Hills in Wabaunsee County, as well as the extraordinary landscapes of Chase, Morris, Pottawatomie, and Riley counties. I have made countless trips into these regions and still will. My intention is to highlight the importance of protecting the natural world and to reflect its power to awaken something within us. I aim to capture the land as it truly is—free of human interference—so the viewer can embark on their own moment of discovery.

These sojourns, which began during my years in Wamego and continue today, are a deliberate pilgrimage to a sacred place. Once there, I can most freely experience my existence.

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For eight years, I worked as a newspaper photojournalist—a role defined by deadlines and the necessity of capturing the world quickly. It was a craft I loved, yet it rarely allowed for the depth I craved. That changed completely when I transitioned into education and met a boy named Cory Garmon.

Cory was born prematurely and spent his early years fighting to catch up to his peers. He was a boy with a zest for life, deeply interested in farm machinery and livestock. But one night, just as his physical development was matching other kids his age, a sudden, massive seizure changed everything. He was life-flighted to a hospital in Wichita, and though he survived, he never fully returned to us. He was left unable to speak, walk, or care for himself, communicating only through a single hand gesture that meant, "I want...." When I met him, he was described as a preteen in body, but with the mind of a nine-month-old baby.

I met Cory when I took a position as his para-educator at Wamego Middle School. To be honest, at that point in my life, I was focused on my own goals, planning to open a commercial photography studio. While I had always felt for people who seemed less fortunate, I had never truly shared in their lives. My situation at the time I met Cory changed that.

Working daily with Cory for two years slowed me down enough that I was able to develop a meaningful relationship with someone so different from myself. I began to see the world through his eyes. Cognitively, we had nothing in common, but emotionally we both had needs, wants, and a desire to be happy. The profound difference was that I had the power to change my situation, but Cory was entirely dependent on the empathy of others. He had to be amazingly tough just to endure his silent world. He quickly became one of my heroes.

During my second year with him, under the guidance of a new teacher, Joy Letcher, Cory’s school day shifted from being oriented primarily around cognitive tasks to a mix that included experiences that genuinely enriched his life. Although his cognitive condition did not significantly change, I did see a new boy start to emerge. It was a profound lesson for me and a gift for him.

During that second year, I was also concurrently working with Dr. Ed Sturr in the art department at Kansas State University on an independent study in photography. Before long, I knew I wanted to do an in-depth story, unlike those I did when working for newspapers. I asked for and received permission from Cory's parents and the school district to document his daily life by carrying a camera with me at work. I also accompanied Cory and his family on several outings outside of school. For an entire year, I used my background in photojournalism to convey to others what it truly meant to be Cory—to help them look past the obvious physical differences and discover his inherent worth. The project ultimately culminated in a two-page photo story in the Topeka Capital-Journal, and an entirely new perspective for me.

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Project Rescue Amazon Youth Orphanage

All images copyright Marcus Stratton, Lawrence, Kansas

During my time as a teacher in the Wamego area, I spent three weeks in Jacunda, Brazil, documenting the Project Rescue Amazon Youth (P.R.A.Y.) mission. During the prior school year I saw my own daughter’s name, Anna, handwritten on a wall in her science classroom at Wamego Middle School. Shortly thereafter, I found the name of one of the orphan's —"Thais"—hand painted on the wall in the room I was staying at the P.R.A.Y. orphanage. Despite living on different continents and having never met each other, these two girls shared a common innocence and dreams for the future, and that moment of connection underscored for me the importance of the work being done to help the children of the orphanage.

The P.R.A.Y. mission itself was born in 1997 when three local women—Sally Savory, Maria Antonia Kientz, and the late Jenny Dieball—recognized a need to support children living in extreme poverty in the region. Through fundraising efforts involving the St. Bernard Catholic Church and the First Presbyterian Church of Wamego, they were able to purchase a farmhouse in Jacunda to serve as a home for children who had been rescued from situations ranging from homelessness to abuse.

The economic reality of the region is harsh, as the decline of the local logging industry had left many families struggling to survive. For the children of Jacunda, Para, Brazil, the mission served as an island of hope, providing them with the opportunity to gain an education and break the cycle of hardship into which they were born. 

Reflecting on my time there, I recall a quote by Willa Cather I had posted on my classroom wall early in my career: "There is no work of art so big or so beautiful that it was not once contained in some youthful body". The orphanage was a testament to that belief. We cannot be sure what quality of life and great things we are nurturing in children until they have had the opportunity to reach their adult potentials, no matter where they live. Because of the care provided by the P.R.A.Y. orphanage and the Brazilians that worked there, Thais and many others in the region at least had that opportunity.

marcusstratton1@gmail.com

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