Day trip to the neighbor province of Leon, where I photograph everything I find: from castles to waterfalls, from power plants to old trees.
Morning walk
Galicia, June 2023.
From the video Bike photography on a foggy morning.
Foggy road
Galicia, June 2023.
From the video Bike photography on a foggy morning.
Montana
Glacier National Park, Montana, May 2021.
From the video Photography in East Glacier National Park.
Trillium Lake
Oregon, July 2017.
Game of castles
Guimarães, Portugal, September 2018.
My favorite trio of prime lenses
It took me a while to get there, but I finally have a lineup of prime lenses I love bringing with me on my daily walks. Most of the time, I'll bring my super zoom lens, but these fast primes let me switch things up every once in a while.
Tree on the field
Galicia, June 2023.
Flight
Galicia, June 2023.
Light in the darkness
Galicia, May 2023.
From the video Black & White Photography at the Death Coast, Galicia: Episode 1.
Good work is not enough
Cormac McCarthy died yesterday at the age of 89. According to Wikipedia, McCarthy is "widely regarded as one of the greatest modern American writers".
What I didn't know about him is that after 26 years of writing, none of McCarthy's novels "had sold more than 5,000 hardcover copies". He was labelled the "best unknown novelist in America".
He spent half of his long writing career as a mostly unknown writer. Success did eventually come to McCarthy, though, and only then his early work was appreciated the way it deserved.
The arts, and that includes photography, are not a meritocracy: good work, even outstanding work, is not a guarantee of success.
Another lesson we can take from his example and many similar others is that success is a lagging indicator. The same goes for failure, by the way.
We do not become what we are today overnight; it's only after weeks, months, years, decades, of hard work (or the lack of) that we achieve results (or not). It took McCarthy 26 years of dedication, of not giving up, to get significant recognition.
At the same time, in order to survive for that long, we should not make that kind of success our end goal. Would you be able to yearn for public recognition for a quarter of a century and still find the strength to keep going? I know I would not, I would've given up.
It's only when we find joy in what we do, and when we set our own definition of success, what that looks like for us, that we have a chance to succeed. And even if that never comes, at least we have poured our souls into our work and shared it with whoever was there to listen to us.
Waiting for the bus
Galicia, June 2023.
Gated tree
Galicia, June 2023.
The stare
Galicia, June 2023.
From the video Bike photography on a foggy morning.
Bike photography on a foggy morning
Another foggy day, a different approach. This time, I take my bike to cover my ground while still having the flexibility to stop anywhere to make an image.
Plastic Landscapes
Some images I made a few years ago with a Holga.
- Image 1: Cannon Beach, Oregon
- Image 2: Chain O' Lakes, Indiana
- Image 3: Chain O' Lakes, Indiana
- Image 4: The Enchantments, Washington
Wildfires: beast and beauty
Wildfires are hell. Not only because of the destruction they bring to the wildlife and humans living around it, but also because of the effect of the smoke they produce that can reach lands thousands of miles away.
I've experienced this a few times while living in Portland. Once, we left a window cracked during a smoky day, and came back a few hours later to an apartment covered in ash.
And yet, the apocalyptic and eerie scenes the smoke creates can make for incredible photographs. We've all seen images from New York City this week, affected by the smoke from wildfires happening in Canada. So horrible, yet so incredibly beautiful.
Similarly to fog, the smoke hides whatever is far away from you, while revealing in great detail the objects closer to you. It does have a distinct feel, though: it pollutes the whole landscape. Plus, these conditions happen at times when fog does not usually happen: there's nothing more dramatic than the Sun coming through a thick layer of smoke.
These two images are examples of some work I did in very smoky conditions. The first one was made in the Columbia River Gorge, Oregon, back in 2017, when wildfires in Alberta covered the whole PNW with smoke. The second image was made last year in Riaño, Spain, during a day with very strong calima (sand that is blown away from the Sahara desert, not from wildfires but the exact same effect).
Be cautious if you decide to adventure in these conditions, though: the danger to one's health can't be understated. Wear a good mask, and don't spend too much time outdoors anyway.
Tubular Bells
(50) Galicia, May 2023.
Resilient
Asturias, February 2020.
Working From the Car
I watched with interest the recent presentation of Apple's AR/VR headset, Vision Pro. I was hoping for a use case that wasn't playing games, watching TV, or pretending to be a legless avatar.
While Vision Pro seems to be a device geared towards consumption for the most part, I can see huge potential on the productive side of things as well.
I was very happy to see that the headset can work as a portable, private, and pretty big monitor to a Macbook. As someone who doesn't have a permanent home, much less an office, this can be a big deal for me. Especially when I'm on the road.
During photography road trips, I spend most nights in my car, where space is... well, very limited. I still haven't found a way to work on my computer for long periods of time that is comfortable and doesn't break my back.
An AR/VR headset could solve this problem. I can't wait for the day I can have a 27" virtual monitor (or two, or three) to work on Lightroom and Final Cut Pro in the back of my small SUV.
I'm still a bit skeptical (is the resolution of the headset going to be enough for this use case?), even more considering the price point of this thing, but I'm excited for a future where I could work from anywhere as comfortably as I would in a proper office.