journal
Sunny weather is my kryptonite. Not only it burns me, it also burns the dreams I have of making images! Now I'm just being a bit dramatic, but in this video, I struggle quite a bit to find images that work in that light. In the end, I still managed to get a few good shots, so it was a good day.
I've made the case for making our photography imperfect a few times. Today, we'll talk about ways to do so, both in camera and in post processing.
I return to a place that burned last summer in a wildfire. This time, there's fog and rain, making the whole place look and feel eerie. The perfect location for some moody black and white photography.
It's not prime season for fog around here, but we still get the occasional foggy morning every once in a while. And when that happens, you know I'll be out there capturing it. Come with me as I walk the streets of this small town, and the countryside, photographing old buildings, power lines, storks, and much more. All from a different than usual perspective.
Another gray and rainy day, another day out chasing new images. This time, I visit a familiar landscape just half an hour from my hometown: the beautiful Sil Canyons.
Today, there's more and better photography being made every day than ever before. And this is only going to get worse with the rise of AI. Yet, I believe that photography as an art has a bright future, because there's one thing that only human photographers can offer, something you should start doing as soon as possible if you want to stand out among the noise.
After losing and breaking my old ND filters, and a few weeks of shooting with welding glass, I finally got a new set of filters. And of course, I went to Lake Michigan to try them out.
Another day of photography at Lake Michigan, another day of high key, low contrast images. This time, though, I get to use two new toys!
There are two types of photographers: those who have lost some of their images, and those who will, eventually.
I'm in the former group, unfortunately.
Today is World Backup Day, the perfect time to make sure you are taking measures against possible failures that could lead to a loss of photographs.
At the very least, you want to have two copies of your data, in different physical locations. The more the better, but it usually comes at the cost of increased complexity. There are many different approaches to this problem; choose one that fits your workflow the best, and stick to it.
I personally have all of my photographs backed up in the cloud. I trust it enough, but not 100%. That's why I also have a local copy of all my photographs in a SSD drive that is kept up to date. And every once in a while, I'll make an extra copy of all the pictures I've rated 1 or more stars in a different hard drive.
No matter what you do, though, try to do something about it before something happens. We photographers spend a lot of time and money on this to have a hard drive failure ruining it all.
An idea from Lynda Barry's What it is that resonated with me. The image as a place you create; similar to the real one you photographed, but different. A place that used to live in your imagination, and is brought into existance through your camera.
Ten things I do, practices I follow, and accessories I use on a regular basis.
It had been a while! I finally drove somewhere for photography, and it felt amazing. I got to spend a few hours at Lake Michigan, photographing the beautiful sand dunes of Indiana Dunes National Park.
Creating a meaningful body of work takes time -- a lot of time. We need to be patient, believe in yourselves, and keep looking for images everywhere, everyday.
Remember that photography is a long term game, something we need to do as often as possible. Because even the tiniest contributions add up.
I've been working on some old photos. I just got to the ones I made in the magical forest of Fanal, in Madeira. It's been more than a year and a half since then, and I still get goosebumps when I see those images show up on my laptop.
Even though going through so many photographs takes quite some time, I really appreciate the fact that I took that many. Take the ones above as an example: the same composition, captured several times with just slight variations.
While always important, this is even more relevant when there is an interplay between the subject and other elements, or when there are two or more subjects (like in these images, you could argue).
All of the photos above could've worked just fine, as they all captured what I saw there. Two stunning trees entangled in a beautiful dance. The small variations I captured here don't make that much of a difference and yet, I always find one or two that I like more the rest, for whatever reason.
That's why I find it so important to take multiple shots of the same composition, with tiny variations. It can be very hard to decide which one is the best one in the field, especially when the conditions are changing by the second (like they do in Fanal).
As I usually say, if it feels right, shoot it. Make the call later.
I'm so excited to announce my new book, "Memorias na néboa" (that's galician, it means "Memories in the fog"). A collection of over 100 images made in and around my hometown.
I'm very proud of this volume, the result of years of work and hundreds of walks with my camera in hand.
“You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future” - Steve Jobs
Unlike many other photographers, I don't have a specific mission to accomplish with my work. No bosses, no clients, no guidance of any kind. I have no idea what I will be photographing next week, let alone in 5 years.
With this incredible flexibility comes a huge amount of doubt: where to go, what to photograph, where to share it, which camera I should use. It's all to me, and it can be a heavy burden at times, as I second-guess myself very often. Did I make the right call?
It's hard to see the path when it's being carved right after you. Only when I look back (contact sheets are great for that) I see it clearly. It's not a straight path but a very windy one, with plenty of detours and diversions. But it's a path.
I don't know here it will lead me, if anywhere at all. All I can do is to have some faith, to embrace the unknown of what lies ahead, and keep pushing.
In the end, it will all make sense. Or so we hope.
I just sent out issue #49 of the newsletter I host on Substack. I'm trying my best to make it a weekly occurence but don't be surprised if there are some gaps here and there.
In any case, just a friendly reminder of yet another way to stay up to date with my work, and thoughts.
Being in good physical shape is a usually overlooked skill in a photographer, especially those who do most of their work outdoors.
The 3-month-long road trip across Norway I embarked on last year definitely took a toll on me, as I went from walking / running more than 10 miles a day to sitting in a car most of the time.
Even though I do a lot of road side photography, being in good shape means more stamina and mental clarity. Something I've clearly been lacking during the last few weeks.
This is hard to measure objectively, but I have noticed that I tend to make better images while on some training program, or immediately after. When I let myself go for a bit, the quality of my work eventually follows by going down.
While this winter hasn't brought as much snow as I was hoping for here in Indiana, I've been working hard on other aspects of my photography (like my contact sheets and my upcoming book "Memorias na néboa"). And that includes getting my body ready.
It's been just a few weeks of training; outside and, when the weather is too nasty, on the treadmill facing an empty wall. As weird as it might sound, I'm convinced those hours spent staring at nothing in the garage will translate into good images in the months to come.
Remember: photography is something you have to do every day, and that doesn't always means taking pictures.
During 2022, I dedicated some time to create contact sheets of all the photographs I was taken. Including the terrible, bad ones. I wanted to preserve them as a brand new way to look at my work. Focusing less on individual photos and outings, taking a bird's eye view of my work as a whole. And I loved it.
The result is two thick volumes, more than 700 pages and more than 14,000 photographs.
In this video, I'll tell you why I decided to do it, why you might want to do the same, and how to do it.
New Mexico Church is an image I took in New Mexico back in 2019. I used my old Sony a6000 with the manual lens Rokinon 12mm f/2 (18mm FF equivalent). I didn't do much to the RAW file, besides adding some contrast.
While the contrast slider can do wonders, sometimes you have to roll up your sleeves and go local. In this case, as you can see if you pay close attention to the images above, I added some brushes to make those white parts of the frame stand out even more.
Especially the monk / priest on the bottom right, the second subject in this image after the church.
The effect is very subtle. It's noticeable when presented with the before and the after, but it'd be hard to spot otherwise. It's not obvious.
This is very important when it comes to editing and post-processing our images: to be very subtle. The best editing is the one that does its job without screaming at the viewer.
