PixelatedImage Blog

Agra Fort. Agra, India. 2008.

I rediscovered this sequence of photographs while putting together Photographically Speaking. In the book I discuss one of these images and explore the elements and decisions that make the photograph what it is. But looking at the 3 together I think there’s a lesson along the lines of the stuff I’ve been talking about lately, specifically the idea of inspiration coming from work, and my more recent post, Do The Work.

It’s easy to see something, to photograph it, and to move on. But you can photograph even the most amazing scene – the one where you’re sure you “got the shot” from an almost limitless number of angles. Add that to a variety of focal lengths, and you’ve got your work cut out for you. This is the photographer’s equivalent of the writer sitting down at her laptop to write the next chapter. This is the process of experimentation, muttering to yourself, then trying something else. It’s creating 100 sketch images to get to the next one. It’s why we need to understand the elements of the visual language; so we recognize them when we see them and put them to good use. Because, frankly, there is no “got the shot.” There are thousands of potential photographs in these scenes, not one, and how long you’re willing to explore, how receptive you are to what is in front of you, determines how many of them you create. I thought I had the shot when I took the top photograph. I was giddy. I nearly ran off to show someone how amazing I was. My (misguided) ego nearly ruined this series. Sure, you could stop at one. But sometimes the good gets in the way of the great, and I think this series together is more powerful than the first photograph alone, but even on their own, these three – and making them – brought me more joy than I’d have had to simply stop at one and call it a day.

The writer doesn’t stop and pat herself on the back when she’s written a really great sentence. She keeps writing. She does the work. Because she knows there’s a better sentence around the corner, and they’ll fit together brilliantly and the combination of the two will be even better than both alone and no amount of patting herself on the back will create that next line. Just work. The work. YOUR work. Being open, receptive, and observant, comes with practice, not as a stroke of luck. Keep at it. I shot this, still struggling (I know, my angst is exhausting) to get comfortable with my craft, after 20 years as a photographer. I’m getting there. So are you.

All the technique in the world doesn’t compensate for the inability to notice. ~ Elliott Erwitt

This is a pragmatic post, and I hope it doesn’t sound too preachy. But one of the things creatives struggle with is finding time to create. We all do. I get emails all the time asking how I cram it all in, how I “find the time to do everything I do.” I posted a longer, different response to that question HERE last August, if you want more on the subject. But if you want to get right to it, here’s how to find 45 days.

I was reading Todd Henry’s new book, The Accidental Creative, this morning. There was a little piece of math in there that twigged in my mind. He said he’d spend one minute each morning doing a futile, seemingly insignificant task, until he added up the minutes. 1 minute each day for a year adds up to 6 hours of time wasted. Gone.

Every creative person I know has at one point told me they didn’t have enough time for a personal project, to re-build an aging portfolio, to learn a new skill. Most of them seem to find or make the time to send out tweets, pour over Facebook, or check emails a couple dozen times an hour. Many of them have seen an entire season of whatever the last big TV show was.

So I did some more math. If I freed up one hour a day it would give me 365 hours. Broken into 8-hour days, that would give me 45 days of time. To do the thing I said I most wanted to do, but “just didn’t have the time.”

I know that some people truly are stretched for time. They probably need to slow down or cut back on a few things, I don’t know. But I do know this. There is never “time left over.” You won’t get to the end of the year and find you’ve got 3 weeks longer than you thought left over. It’s the same with money. Our expenses fill to take up the slack, and for some people they overflow. But you can’t get time on credit. So 24 hours is all you have in one day. I also know that you can’t save one hour a day and have 45 days left over at the end to spend on what you want. But you can pay yourself first.

Paying yourself first is important if you want to save money. Paying yourself first with your time is also important. It’s putting the big rocks in first. Spend that hour a day working on your latest project, then use whatever time you have left for Twitter. Take the 2 week trip first, then allow some of the less important things to remain undone at the end of the year. If it’s important and it matters to you more than whatever little things fill the countless little 5 and 10 minute blocks of time, then book it. Put it on the calendar. Pay yourself first and let the little things fit in where they can. But fill the days with little things first and there won’t be room for the big ones.

Break it into whatever pieces you want, and spend it on whatever you want. But remember time is not money. Time is far more important than money. You will never be able to borrow back the time that’s gone. And mortgaging your present in hopes of time later (I’ll do it when I retire…) is just plain crazy. Your kids will never get any younger. Your personal project will never complete itself. But Twitter will always be there. So will Facebook. LOST will be on DVDs until Jesus comes back. You can watch it later. If you have time.

Finding my own rhythm again hasn’t been easy, but it’s still there. Sometimes the waves just seem to take longer to crest, but they do. This was the first time I really picked up a camera since the accident. It took me two months to get there. Photo: Cynthia Haynes.

Every creative person I know goes through ups and downs, as though our creative life rides on top of the water and rises and falls with the waves. We experience brilliant highs and depressing lows. When the wind kicks up and the ocean is wild, the highs are higher, and we feel glorious, unstoppable, and they crash harder, the glory gone. Stopped.

What helps is not looking too closely at the wave, but at the ocean itself. Pull back, look at the water from a hill ten miles distant and the water looks smooth as glass – as your creative life does, or will, from a distance. The dips and peaks evened out. This helps not because it makes one bit of difference when you’re at the bottom of a wave cycle and you feel like you’ve made your last good, beautiful, photograph or written your last honest word. It helps because it allows us to understand the cycle, to use it, to ride out the waves, even building momentum.

Our creative life, the very nature of how most of us work internally, is rhythmic. Brilliant creativity is unsustainable day-to-day. A wave that has a high, but is not flanked by lows, is not a wave, it’s placid water. No lows, but no highs, either. We have a word for it in the creative world – mediocrity. Todd Henry, in his book The Accidental Creative, says, “mediocrity is a high price to pay for a lifetime of safety.” You can’t have this creative life, ask for the highs, and never get the lows. That doesn’t make the lows easier, but it’s nice to feel normal, isn’t it?

Creativity happens in the space between taking in and incubating as many influences as the world allows us, and the sudden rush of a newborn idea who comes into the world in a mix of hard work and joy, sweat and tears. The birth of that idea, and the execution of it, are often on the crest of the wave. They are the high points for which we live. If the high point of that wave is adoration and praise, then you’re missing out. Singer/songwriter Josh Ritter sings, “I’m singing for the love of it, have mercy on the man who sings to be adored.” Russian actor (and originator of Method acting) Konstantin Stanislavsky, said, “Love the art in yourself, not yourself in the art.” But that’s a digression, not really my point.

My point is this (man, he’s long-winded!): it’s in the lows of the wave where we feed inspiration. If we are conscious of the shape of the wave and the way our process works, we know that wave will crest again. What we do at the bottom of the wave determines how much momentum we have at the top. We can spend that time being depressed and feeling sorry for ourselves, or we can feed the muse. We can go to the museum, the gallery, the coffee shop, the library, the theater, wherever it is you find your own paint stirred. Forget how you’ve suddenly lost your brilliance. Go find the brilliance of others and let it feed your soul. Go be with your family, read a book, and then, most importantly, do the work. Don’t set your camera down simply because inspiration hasn’t yet come. Inspiration, says French poet Charles Baudelaire, comes from working.

Riding these waves gets more predictable the longer you do it; you see the rhythm in it, you begin to know your process. I will often mumble this to myself in the lows, when I am doing the work and my Muse (wretched, unreliable, prodigal Muse, where the hell is she?!) is nowhere in sight. “Trust your process, David. It’ll come.” and I keep working, mumbling other things, less savory and less family-rated things, but I keep at it, and the movement of the wave carries me forward, pulls me upward, as it always does, and I begin to get excited about what I might find at the top, and I get more grateful for the Muse (wonderful, reliable, always-present Muse!).

Do the work. Trust your process. Ride the wave out.

Creativity is our single greatest asset. If you want to nurture that asset, and understand your process more, here are two suggestions. Corwin Hiebert just wrote an eBook called Your Creative Mix and it’s a brilliant book about creativity. Read more HERE. And I’ve got two eBooks – The Inspired Eye and The Inspired Eye 2. Both of those talk directly about ways we can understand and strengthen our creative process as photographers.

Most of you know I consider my manager and best friend to be a bit of a superhero. Dude just gets it, and gets it done. Without him I’d be floundering. What makes Corwin unique is his ability to understand – and operate on – the difficult bridge between creativity and commerce. While Corwin’s business chops are super-solid, he understands that as creatives our first task is to tend to the creative stuff. He knows the creative stuff is the fire in our souls, he knows it’s the only asset we have when it comes to business, and so he places the highest value on it. And where he sees a chance to take it up a notch, he does it- or makes me do it – without prejudice. He’s a little scary, actually.

So this month we’re releasing Corwin’s Your Creative Mix. I think you should buy it for the cheeky cover alone. The cover shot comes from photographer Martin Prihoda, and while it has little to do with the book (I just love the shot, and Martin’s a genius), it comes from a mini-case study in the book. Corwin not only wrote a book about creativity and collaboration and how that can help build both your art and your business, he did so creatively and collaboratively. This one’s full of stuff. We don’t make page counts a selling point anymore because, well, frankly, it’s not relevant, but also because we now paginate one full spread as one page instead of two. So, if we were still mentioning page count, and we aren’t, this one would be almost 80 pages on the old system.

The title, Your Creative Mix, comes out of the conference Corwin creates in Vancouver each year called Creative Mix. He brings in brilliant speakers to talk about creativity and community. Same thing in this book. Only then he adds photographs, rants, and a boat-load of great content and ideas.  If there’s a VisionMonger in you at all, or you’re interested in the power of collaboration to push your creativity, then you’ll get much more than your $5 worth out of this one. But then who are we kidding, we all know y’aren’t paying $5. See below for the discount codes. One last thing. Would you do me a favour? When we rebuilt the Craft & Vision site a year ago we made sure there was a way to give helpful reviews and comments. So if you have a moment, leave an honest comment or helpful review for this or any of the other C&V books you’ve loved? Those comments are helpful to others. Thank you!

Lastly, I’m a big fan of Todd Henry, the Accidental Creative, and because this book is about creativity, we’re giving away 3 copies of Todd’s great new book, The Accidental Creative, and bundling it with his Personal Idea Pad.  Anyone buying Your Creative Mix during the discount period will have their name thrown into the hat and we’ll randomly give these away as thanks to three lucky, random, readers.

Special Offer on PDFs
For the first five days only, if you use the promotional code MIX4 when you checkout, you can have the PDF version of Your Creative Mix for only $4 OR use the code MIX20 to get 20% off when you buy 5 or more PDF ebooks from the Craft & Vision collection. These codes expire at 11:59pm PST July 23rd, 2011.

A week ago I left what might have been my shortest post ever: Originality is Overrated. It generated some good discussion, and from the comments it seemed to really resonate and get some thoughts going. My own thinking has been stirring too, but before I tell you where those thoughts have -for now – settled, I wanted some ghosts to have their say:

“Insist upon yourself. Be original.”
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Originality is the art of concealing your sources”
~ Benjamin Franklin

“Originality exists in every individual because each of us differs from the others. We are all primary numbers divisible only by ourselves.”
~ Jean Guitton

“What moves those of genius, what inspires their work is not new ideas, but their obsession with the idea that what has already been said is still not enough.”
~ Eugene Delacroix

“It is better to fail in originality than to succeed in imitation.”
~ Herman Melville

“Millions of men have lived to fight, build palaces and boundaries, shape destinies and societies; but the compelling force of all times has been the force of originality and creation profoundly affecting the roots of human spirit.”
~ Ansel Adams

“Originality is merely an illusion”
~ M.C. Escher

“The merit of originality is not novelty; it is sincerity.”
~ Thomas Carlyle

“Utter originality is, of course, out of the question”
~ Ezra Pound

“Originality does not consist in saying what no one has ever said before, but in saying exactly what you think yourself.”
~ James Stephens

Not all of them appear to agree. But I think all of them are right in one sense or another.  There are three apparently different things being said by these voices. The first is that originality does exist, and is desireable. The second is that no true originality exists.  The third implies originality is in fact possible, but is not relative to what already exists, but to the artist himself. I think we’re using the same word to mean slightly different things.

So here’s where I’m at on the issue, without over-thinking it any further. And if it seems I’ve flip-flopped on the issue, I don’t think I have, just looking at it a little broader.

I think the search for originality burdens artists. Does it exist? I think so. But I need to qualify that, and that’s hard to do without being prescriptive. But in general I think that making the pursuit of originality our primary pursuit as creative people, results in work that is different, but not necessarily honest. And for many it is crippling, because imitation and influence are among the first steps to learning our craft. Originality is not the greatest good.

I believe in originality in this sense:

Sense A. Creativity is about combining existing elements into new combinations and there are nearly infinity possibilities out there. Yes, all art is derivative, but that doesn’t mean borrowing influence & inspiration, from, say, Monet, Leonard Cohen, and a turnip, can’t result in something new. Something that is, in a real sense, original (even though we’ve not defined the word.)

Sense B. While the basic truth of being human is that we share profound commonalities, we are all different. That makes us, as creators, unique, with the possibility of creating unique work. Being true to that uniqueness and creating work that is honest and imaginative, opens us to the possibility of originality.

My friend Anita, a woman with an artists heart and inquisitive mind, used a great word recently in a discussion about this. The word was possibility, and that’s why I’m using it so much here. We’re trying, in debates about originality to pin things down without defining our terms, all the while avoiding the possibility that originality and uniqueness exist. She said, “I think it should be less about defining originality or debating its existence, and more about being open to possibility, creativity, imagination.”

And that’s where I end up in my thinking as well. Do I believe in the possibility of originality? For me that still depends on how we’re using the word, but yes. I like to believe in infinite possibility. It allows room for my imagination. It implies creative freedom is possible. But it’s still a by-product of a search for something else and not the goal itself. Our creative minds and hearts will flourish more, and create with greater faithfulness to who we are, if we stop making originality the goal and allow ourselves to be overtaken by the pursuit of  honest expression, play, and imagination. Be yourself. Do the work. The rest will follow.

We all do things for different reasons. For me the goal is to create, express, and communicate, my reactions to this life and this world, in a way that is faithful to who I am. Whether it is ever seen as original doesn’t matter. I’d rather it be faithful. I like how C.S. Lewis expressed it:

“Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it.”
– C. S. Lewis

“The artist is nothing without the gift, but the gift is nothing without work.”
~Emile Zola

Lately I’ve had nothing but time. My feet are still weak and the closest I come to walking is fearful crutch-work across the kitchen floor as I put more and more weight on the feet. I have visions of the screws and plates popping out. It’s scary as hell. But if there’s one thing I know about physiotherapy, it’s this: recovery doesn’t show up on your doorstep. You don’t say, “I’ll do the exercises after my feet heal.” You do the work, the healing comes.

The same is true of photography, writing, or any creative endeavor. You do the work. There is no muse; at least not one that is beckoned by anything but work. There is no amount of talent that compensates for lack of work. Everything I have read about creativity echoes the same thing. And it is that we do the work. Our work. The work that others will call art, or for which they’ll credit us with genius (or not). But however highly we think of it, or don’t, it remains simply work.

There are frustrations aplenty in the creative life. We work within constraints. We have highs where not a soul could touch us if they tried, and lows where the same is true. In other words, it’s hard enough without on top of that worrying about the size of our talent compared to others, or whether the muse will show up, or if we’ve thought our last creative thought, made our last beautiful photograph. When you get frustrated, just begin. Pick up the camera and do the work. Sit down at the laptop and start the edit. Do the work.

Don’t worry about getting inspired, being original, or any of the other things that haunt the creative mind. The muse will show up, she always does. It’s she who’s waiting. Just start. Do the work.

“Inspiration exists, but it has to find us working.”
~ Picasso

“Just as appetite comes by eating, so work brings inspiration, if inspiration is not discernible at the beginning.”
~ Igor Stravinsky

Caveat: This is a post about gear. So many of you will get all glossy-eyed. Worse: it’s not even camera gear. This is a post about the gear I’ve chosen to live with on the on-going (if not somewhat interupted) nomadic adventure with Jessie. You will be forgiven if you just move on, not everyone cares about field kitchens and rooftop tents.

In February 2011 I sold my stuff, handed in the keys to the condo and left Vancouver with some haste. Just couldn’t wait to hit the road. That rush also meant I left home on a bit of a wing and a prayer, so I’m re-kitting the truck. I might not be able to walk just now but I can dream & scheme and start getting ready. One of the best resources I stumbled on was Kanz Outdoors. Run by Harald Kanz, this outfitter sells some top-rated expedition gear with excellent customer service. My mother nearly passed out when the UPS guys arrived within days of my getting home from the hospital.

THE HEROES
My Autohome Columbus Variant rooftop tent (above on Jessie) has been amazing. I’ve slept some of the best sleeps of my life in this tent. My Western Mountaineering down sleeping bag is the most comfortable bag I’ve ever had. I could wear my Icebreaker clothing every day, and I did, right up until the Italian paramedics cut them from my broken little body when I had my accident. And when I asked Icebreaker if their warranty covered Italian EMTs with scissors, they said, “Not really” but replaced my clothes anyways. How’s that for fantastic service? My Patagonia H2No raingear rocks. Blundstone boots? Wouldn’t wear anything else.

A couple tiny Black Diamond ION headlamps slung over my rearview mirror mean I always have one, and the Black Diamond Titan (large) and Apollo (smaller) lanterns are amazing. The larger BD lantern takes D cells (4 of them!) so it’s get replaced by the Goal Zero Light-A-Life lanterns. My goal is to do this as sustainably as I possibly can for a vehicle-based trip. And for those looking at Jessie and thinking bad enviro-thoughts – she gives me 300 miles for a $50 tank of diesel, so she does extremely well! I’m also not powering an entire home.

My Virgin MiFi, while I was in the US, was awesome! Turned Jessie into a rolling WiFi hotspot for 5 devices. What’s not to love?! And while I only just got into the groove before the Italy trip, my 2 Hero GoPro HD cameras (mounted on Jessie in pics below) are SO, stinking cool, and infinitely mountable all over the Land Rover! I want one more. I have plans. Big plans.

THE DUDS & THE REPLACEMENTS
Rubbermaid ActionPackers to store my gear were really cheap and available, but they’re neither durable nor space efficient. I’ve replaced them with Zarges K470 aluminum cases, through Kanz Outdoors.

I had a small first aid kit and now looking long-term at this I’ve upgraded to a Denali Plus Wilderness Medical Kit from Wilderness Medical Systems . It’s not that I’m accident-prone or anything but, well, I tend to fall off walls and stuff. This kit ought to do me well, should I fall off a wall while holding it. I was going to get a kit to go into a Pelican 1600 EMT case but I’m trying to keep weight down. And, this’ll be a recurring theme, the customer service from the folks at WMS is amazing. I’ll be using them again.

The overly-trademarked PerfectFlow™ InstaStart™ Fold-N-Go™ Coleman™ stove was fine and worked well but for long-term travel and day-to-day living I wanted something more robust. I’ve replaced it with a Kanz Field Kitchen and stove that rocks so much it makes me smile. And if I want to hang it from a camel there are leather straps for that. And if I want to raft the Colorado, there’s a dry bag for that. Harald Kanz is the man, and this Field Kitchen is beautiful. And I’ll be getting a couple small refillable propane canisters, also from Kanz Outdoors. The small disposable, non-refillable, ones don’t sit well with me. While we’re talking Kanz, take a look at THIS and tell me it wouldn’t make a perfect field office! Add some foam and straps to hold laptops and harddrives down and you’ve got a perfect field office for post-production, etc. on the road. A perfect field office for someone with more space than I’ve got, but perfect all the same.

My no-name $300 12v fridge never worked. So it’s getting replaced with an Engel 35 which I’ve also ordered from Kanz. Putting ice in a cooler daily gets old, and when you’re carrying insulin as I am, and need cream for coffee, as I do, I need reliable protection from the heat.

Life on the road with cameras and ipads and laptops and lanterns means heavy power needs. I have two batteries in the Land Rover, one dedicated to powering gear, but pull over to camp for a couple days and you’ll want more power without turning the engine on. So I’ve picked up a couple solar panels, a solar generator, and an invertor, all from GoalZero, who is the first solar company I’ve seen to make this easy to understand. And their customer service is top notch. I wanted a specific package but I wanted flexible panels, not solid, and they made some suggestions and tweaks and made me my own package. A+ for the folks at GoalZero.

In addition to the new GoPro camera, I have finally picked up a BLUE-brand YETI USB-mic to record some things. I’m not going to give any hints, but this kind of mic seems like it might be just perfect for podcasts.

Inspiration is coming from Overland Journal, in part for the subject matter, and in part for the excellent writing and photography. And I finally tracked down a copy of The Vehicle-Dependent Expedition Guide. And speaking of tracking things down, I spent over a month without a hand-brake; the cable snapped just after San Francisco (probably because of San Francisco! Jessie and I nearly killed my editor, along with an $80,000 Mercedes sedan, on some of those hills) and I’ve just tracked down one of those too. So hurray for no more rocks as wheel chocks! (But you do need wheel chocks and THESE bad boys from ORTT are sweet! )

There will be more. The more entrenched in this adventure I become the more I simplify. Sadly that simplification often means getting rid of two or three things only to replace them with one that costs more. But I’m learning. Hoping to make it to Overland Expo in Arizona in 2012 and learn from the pros. If you’re coming let me know, we’ll get together for a meal and beer one evening. Otherwise, consider this the last of the Adventure-Geek-Out for a while.

Easily the best-selling books in the Craft&Vision library are still TEN and TEN MORE. They’re still the most popular books and they’re still one of the best values in photography education out there anywhere.

Well recently we’ve been feeling like they were getting a little dusty – our designs have evolved, and let’s face it, our Layout Ninja, Luke Taylor, does a way better job than I ever could. So we put new covers on them and re-designed the entire layouts.

Why am I telling you? Two reasons.

Reason One: I don’t want you getting confused by the slick new look and buying books you already have. You are more than welcome to do so, but the content is all the same. Just new covers and layouts that bring these books up to the standard of our later books.

Reason Two: These are still our best-selling books and they have been so even with the old design because the content is really solid. I am unabashedly proud of these two books and still think you’d be hard-pressed to get better value. And I believe – even more now than I did when I wrote them – that we can improve our craft without spending so much money on gear. So we’ve bundled them together and made them even cheaper -  TEN: Ten Ways to Improve Your Craft Without Buying Gear, with TEN MORE: Ten More Ways to Improve Your Craft Without Buying Gear.

If you haven’t got TEN and TEN MORE, you can have them both, shiny and new, for USD$7.00. This $7 bundle is only available here on my blog (click the Add to Cart button below) but you can get’em separately at the normal price through The Craft&Vision store. And if you’ve already got them and love them, do me a favour and tell the world? Thanks!

There is much talk in artsy circles about being “original”. I’m not even sure I know what that means. (Or if it exists.)

Of all the places to put our energy, I think this is among the more futile. It’s the wrong answer to the right question.

Is desiring originality (insert vague personal definition here) a good thing? Yes. Of course. If we can agree on the meaning. But however you define it, it’s merely a by-product.

You are already unique. If you do the work you do with honesty, integrity, curiousity, boldness, and courage, you will find your work as unique – and original – as you are.

If you aim for originality you may produce work that is indeed original. It’ll be unlike anything else, including you.

I think we can all agree that this year went a little sideways. If things had gone to plan I’d have picked Jessie up in Atlanta over a month ago, spun through the Florida Keys, lingered for three weeks, then come up the Eastern seaboard, and back into Canada. By now I’d be heading east toward the Maritimes, finally to Newfoundland for the month of August, and onwards from there. Instead, Jessie is still in Atlanta and I’ll spend August in a rehab facility learning to walk again.

Ah, the clever plans of mice and men, eh? To be sure, it’s still been a hell of an adventure. But many of the things I wanted from it just never happened.

So we’re doing it again.

I had planned to drive Europe in 2012, but I’m sticking around a while, staying on the road, and seeking beauty on this continent for another year. It’ll be a while before I call Vancouver home again. A long while. Nomadic life agrees with me too much; I’m so much liking the idea that home is not a place, it’s people. I hope between now and then there are more chances to meet some of you for coffee, the odd meal, or just a chance encounter while we’re shooting the Golden Gate Bridge together. Give me a couple more months to get walking, and Jessie and I will be back out there, nomadic again.

As soon as I can, (late August?) I’m flying back down to Atlanta, putting the key in the ignition (where the hell are those keys, anyways?) and we’re driving back here to Ottawa to re-group. I’ve got a busy fall so between travels to Cambodia, Laos, Thailand, Mexico, Honduras, Argentina and Antarctica, I’ll have time to re-outfit her and get ready for the next stage, which is, for the most part, heading south again, to see the Florida Keys, then west and I’m planning to really, actually, no screwing around this time, spend some quality time in the West. Arizona. Utah. New Mexico. Wyoming. Colorado, California. I just missed too much this time. Had too little time to photograph what I had hope to, or meet the people I wanted to. Too rushed. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned this year, both in life and art – it’s to SLOW. DOWN.

In the few months on the road with Jessie, I was the most content I’ve been in years and years. In that perfect beautiful place where challenges slightly outstrip my comfort levels. Where all my clothes fit into one duffle bag. Where I woke up to the wilderness and the weather as the sun rose. Where my daily plans are heavily subject to serendipity. And I want to keep doing this. This adventure is too beautiful – even with the broken feet and cracked pelvis – not to keep at it and finish what I started. I’ve never seen with such clarity. Never breathed so deeply. Never met so many people out of the clear blue that I was just genuinely curious about and enjoyed.

THE PART OF THE POST THAT MATTERS
If the fall in Italy gave me one thing, it’s the reminder that life is short and desperately – unpredictably – fragile. Recovery hasn’t come easy, but then neither do our dreams. Whatever it means to you; keep living the dream. We’ve only got one life to live and you’re the only one who’s going to make it happen. Sure the days go by on their own, and too fast, but an intentional life, like a photograph, is something we make. Each day do something, ANYTHING, that gets you closer. Or stop doing something – anything – that stands in your way. If that means traveling the world, or taking the time to go make those photographs you’ve been thinking about, or finally teaching your daughter to use a camera, or finally printing and hanging your work for the world – and you – to see, do it today. Tomorrow is guaranteed to no one.

To change one’s life:  Start immediately.  Do it flamboyantly.  No exceptions.
~William James