Yosemite National Park, California, March 2025.
From the video It finally happened.
Yosemite National Park, California, March 2025.
From the video It finally happened.
A couple of blocks from where I live, there’s a van built for the outdoors: rugged tires, gas canisters, solar panels... the whole package. I’ve seen the interior a few times as well, and it looks extremely nice. Everything is shiny and brand new.
The van has been sitting on the street since I moved here a year ago.
I’m sure it still has things that need work, but at some point, “it’s not ready yet” becomes an excuse.
Surely, a rig like that would make my photography road trips easier and more comfortable. I can’t afford it, though, so I make it happen with a $45 mattress and a big battery. I spent three months sleeping in my car in Norway, two months in Scotland, and have taken countless trips across the U.S. with that setup. Yes, it is challenging, even miserable at times, but the inconveniences fade over time. What’s left are the memories... and the images.
When I fall into the trap of over-preparation, it’s usually in areas of my life I’m less excited about. Procrastination becomes a way to avoid doing something I don’t really want to do. It’s easy to convince myself that one more thing needs to be done before I start.
But we need to ask ourselves: do we actually want to do it, or do we just like the idea of becoming that person who does things like these?
If we spend more time shopping for hiking gear than looking at maps -and actually hiking-, maybe we don’t love this activity as much as we think. Perhaps we just like imagining ourselves as hikers.
If we spend more time reading about cameras and lenses than exploring or looking for new subjects, maybe we don’t love taking photos as much as we think. Perhaps we just like the idea of being photographers.
The best way to know what we truly want is to start. Start small, with whatever you have now. Build momentum. Buy new gear as you need it, when your current equipment is really holding you back. Only by taking action do we discover what truly drives us, rather than chasing what others say should.
Yosemite National Park, California, March 2025.
From the video It finally happened.
After many tries, I finally got a winter snowstorm in Yosemite Valley. It was magical, everything I had hoped for.
California, February 2025.
From the video The power of awe inspiring landscapes: Yosemite.
Galicia, January 2024.
Italy, November 2019.
From the video Un po d'Italia.
San Francisco, February 2025.
Pacifica, September 2024.
California, February 2025.
From the video The power of awe inspiring landscapes: Yosemite.
I love Lee Friedlander's work, but his book "Western Landscapes" left me puzzled. I just don't like those images, and yet, there are so many things I learned from studying Friedlander's vision for the landscapes I like to photograph.
San Francisco, September 2024.
California, December 2024.
From the video From foggy cemeteries to slot canyons in the American Southwest.
California, March 2025.
California, February 2025.
From the video Dull weather is a blank canvas for photography.
Yosemite, California, February 2025.
From the video The power of awe inspiring landscapes: Yosemite.
San Francisco, February 2025.
The light was pretty flat today. While most photographers would avoid days like this, I actually think they make for anything but boring photography. In fact, other than a foggy day, there’s nothing I like more than a flat, gray, and cloudy sky. These conditions give us a blank canvas to create the images we envision, rather than just capturing what’s in front of us. Especially in the context of black-and-white photography.
California, February 2025.
From the video The power of awe inspiring landscapes: Yosemite.
California, February 2025.
From the video The power of awe inspiring landscapes: Yosemite.