Oregon, July 2016.
Monument view
Galicia, August 2018.
When the city sleeps
San Francisco, July 2024.
This compact camera changed the way I do photography
I've used all kind of cameras over the years, from medium format film monsters to smartphones. All of them taught some valuable lessons about this art, but the camera that changed my photography forever was a tiny compact one. I lost it years ago on a beach in Oregon, but now, we are reunited again!
Fjord view
Norway, November 2022.
How great photography is done
This photo by photojournalist Evan Vucci is already an iconic image of our times. The amazing Imitative Photography YouTube channel has a great video showing how that photograph was made - a rare example of how great photography is done.
And yet, some still miss the point. “Right aperture / exposure / iso”, “there’s nothing special about being on this spot, they literally were right there” are some of the comments. Go figure.
Now, I have no idea what the exact settings were. Evan had much more important things to focus on, so it is likely that they were already dialed in for the conditions, or that he was shooting in some semi-automatic mode. In any case, he could've missed on some of those settings and the image would've still been as iconic as it finally turned out to be.
Indeed, the image is iconic not because it's perfectly exposed, it has no noise, or because the color balance is accurate. No, it's all about the story it tells. And making it might look easy, but it was anything but that.
What those commenters are missing is that the image was made because of Evan’s vision, who was able to anticipate what was going to happen next by moving to the right spots; the big balls it takes to point a camera at a presidential candidate when armed forces are looking for a shooter (who you don’t even know if is still active!); the experience it takes to frame your subject perfectly in a chaotic environment without thinking much about it; and the practice it requires to know how to use your camera as fast as Evan did, literally an extension of his body.
When something looks easy but yet only a few manage to do it, you know they are some of the best at what they do. Of course, there’s nothing especial to that shot, provided you are at the right spot, at the right time, ready and with the skills and experience required to make it happen. Other than that, nothing to see here.
The van way
San Francisco, July 2024.
The morning of the coyote, I
San Francisco, July 2024.
The morning of the coyote
I see coyotes very often during my morning walks. Some are shy, some let you get relatively close. This one was too busy looking for breakfast to mind my presence, so I was able to get quite near.
After taking dozens of shots, I witnessed something I’d never seen before: the coyote found a decently sized gopher and proceeded to eat it right in front of me.
This is why I love photography and getting out with a camera in hand. You just never know what you are going to find.
Mirror Fjord
Senja, Norway, August 2022.
From the video Senja, Norway - Black and White Photography.
No other place I’d rather be
The feeling is always there, some days I’m barely aware of it; other days, it almost hurts: the desire to hit the road again. And yet, there’s no place I’d rather be than San Francisco right now.
It feels strange. I haven’t been in a situation like this in years. My “normal” is to be always on the move, nowhere for too long. But I keep scanning the map and I find nothing: there’s nowhere I want to go*.
The summer doesn’t inspire me. The bright sun and the heat make me feel miserable most of the time. I much prefer those gray cloudy days, slow rainy afternoons, and the magical foggy mornings. And of those mornings, I’m getting plenty here.
I spent the last two summers in Norway and Scotland, grayscale times I cherish now. I want that, I need that. So I’m learning to work on the same spots over and over, trying to find what I failed to see before. And while my desire to go somewhere is still there, I’m starting to love it. A project is building up here, I think. We shall see.
Come around September, though, I’ll be more than ready to hit that open road again. Where to, it doesn’t matter.
* By car, that is. I guess I could always take a flight to somewhere exotic on the other side of the world, but you know, I can’t afford that.
Faces of San Francisco, III
California, July 2024.
Colonel Chicken
San Francisco, July 2024.
The end of the land, I
San Francisco, July 2024.
From the video The key to great photography is boring.
Turtle and ducks
San Francisco, July 2024.
From the video The key to great photography is boring.
Faces of San Francisco, II
California, July 2024.
From the video The key to great photography is boring.
Faces of San Francisco, I
California, July 2024.
From the video The key to great photography is boring.
The key to great photography is boring
In a world that is constantly trying to sell us shortcuts and workarounds, it's important to realize that the road to great photography is rather unassuming and kind of boring. It is the accumulation of great work made over the years with hard work that we can start building a body of work. It is a very simple path, but not easy to follow.
Ghosts of Duncansby, II
Scotland, August 2023.
From the video Photographing Northern Scotland.
Under the fog
Galicia, March 2022.