on the road
Back in 2017, I went on a 2-month photography road trip across the American Southwest. At the time, I was shooting film exclusively, so I stocked up: I bought 100 rolls of medium format Ilford HP5 film, and hit the road with everything I needed to shoot, develop and scan it all on the road.
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.
After 2+ months living on the road for photography, I have some thoughts.
The Alvord Desert is one of my favorite spots in Oregon. A remote place in the vastness of SE Oregon, we first visited this place a few years ago during Thanksgiving. It was a trip I will never forget.
In this video, I remember that trip, and try to make new memories… and images. The weather didn’t cooperate as much as I’d have loved to, but we still had a great time.
Hello, friend, from somewhere in Iowa.
I’m typing this on my iPad from the passenger seat of our truck. Today, we left Indiana after being there for a couple of months, as we head West in the search of new adventures.
We’ve “moved” several times in the last few years. It doesn’t get any easier. Leaving behind a place and a routine, the comfort and safety they provide, and the people you shared your life with even if only for a few weeks, is always hard. And in some ways, the uncertainty of a road trip can be a bit scary.
I’ve come to realize that all of this is a good reminder, though: nothing lasts forever. Memento mori, some say. This is a fact we all are aware of, but it can get lost in the everyday, automatic behaviors we engage in.
Knowing that we only have a few weeks left of whatever we are doing, of wherever we are, and of whoever we are with, makes me enjoy all of it a bit more. It makes everyone around us that way.
It wasn’t too long ago when we were saying good bye to everyone in Spain over meals and drinks, or when we were celebrating being back with our loved ones in Indiana. This week, it was time to enjoy the last few days with them.
Even though I always try to keep in mind how lucky I am to even be alive, this approach to life has made me even more aware. Every day is special in a different way.
Take it all in today. Because we aren’t going to be here tomorrow.
Hello from Arco, Italy,
Sadly, we had to leave Austria one week earlier than anticipated due to bad weather. Snow and ice prevented me from doing many of the things I wanted to do there, but it was those same conditions that gifted me with a magical day that made me miss the mountains.
I lived in Portland, OR, for 5 years. While the city might not get snow every winter (we got one big snowstorm in all of those years), the mountains around it are covered in white powder for several months a year. It's easy to find snow even during the summer, if you hike high enough. I absolutely loved it.
I find snow fascinating. I grew up in a place that barely gets any: flurries are scarce, seeing the snow stick on the ground is a once-in-a-lifetime-event. The nearby mountains do get snow but it's short-lived as the warmer temperatures melt it away rather quickly.
Innsbruck got pummeled with snow last Wednesday. The locals might have found it annoying for their commutes, but it was a gift for me: unable to reach the snowy mountains, they came to me.
Placed among giants, it was easy for me to reach high altitudes by simply walking from our place near downtown Innsbruck. I walked in the snow for hours, going as high on the mountain as I could. I knew it wasn't going to last (it's still November, after all) and I wanted to take it all in.
When I left the city behind and reached the forest, it was like being back in the mountains of Oregon. I was once again walking into magical scenes from a fairy tale.
I loved my time in Innsbruck, definitely on top of my list of places to go back to. Next time, hopefully, better prepared for the winter.
Hello from Innsbruck, Austria.
I was thinking about the crazy last few weeks we've had: it was only two months ago when we were arriving in New York City. It feels like it happened a long time ago, it's been a lot of traveling since then. Even though things get easier over time, I still find it difficult to leave.
We spent two months in Indiana this summer. A month in Spain this last October. Sounds like very short periods of time -they were- and still, I got used to it. I had a routine.
Leaving for this trip was, as usual, hard at first. Don't get me wrong, I love to travel and see new places, but if I lose the momentum it's not easy to get it back. It's a resistance I encounter very often -it's not hard to beat, but it does require some effort.
I'm sure many other photographers feel the same way before a backpacking trip or boarding a plane on their way to a new place: that mix of excitement for the new images you are about to make and the uncertainty, the fear of the unknown, being out of your comfort zone. Maybe that's why so many keep returning to photograph the same places over and over.
This resistance we might face is short-lived, though. The way to beat it is by taking action, by doing. In my case I'd forgotten about the routine and comfort as soon as I reached Zumaia. There's nothing like some beautiful nature to put you in the present.
This is going to be my couch for the next few weeks, here in Portland, Oregon.
I've lost count of how many different couches I've had during the last year and a half. How many places where I've had my morning coffee. How many homes.
Tomorrow, I might not be here. Today, this is home.
