Norway, November 2022.
We are running out of time
It feels like it was a few days ago when I hit the road, but it’s been almost 4 months since I left to embark on this road trip across Norway. What an incredible experience this was! I will never forget waking up to these stunning landscapes, having breakfast out in nature, and the nights falling asleep to the sound of nearby streams.
As time passed, though, my sensitivity to these landscapes and to the experience itself decreased. I don't want to say I took it all for granted, but I got used to it somewhat. It always happens to me, no matter where I am.
Even though we human beings don't like change, we can become accustomed to almost any situation given enough time. Perhaps, this is why I keep moving every few weeks, every few months. No permanent home, always on the move, carrying all my possessions with me across two continents.
Despite all the downsides of this lifestyle -and it has plenty of them-, the main reason I like living this way is because it exposes the true nature of time. I don't let myself get used to anything for too long. There's always a feeling of urgency, of trying to take it all in while it lasts, because there's an expiration date.
The deadline for my time in Norway is approaching quickly, and I know I will miss these drives along the Norwegian lakes and fjords very much. Very soon, all of this will be just a memory of something that happened in the past. A memory I'll have to fight to keep alive.
But as they say, every beginning is another beginning's end. In a few weeks, Norway will be over, and I'll be back in Spain. Shortly after, I'll leave for the US. And not too long after that, I'll be taking another plane back to Europe.
We are running out of time, even if we don't notice its passing. Let's take it all in while we can.
Tree of Norway, II
Norway, November 2022.
Own the platform
Things are changing, as they always do. And we humans hate change.
It feels like it was yesterday when we were all hating on social media, while mourning the old platforms. It is 2022, and here we are, hating on TikTok and VR, mourning platforms like Instagram and Twitter.
I have no idea what the future will be for those platforms; I really hope I don't end up having to use VR glasses to share my photography and enjoy the work of fellow photographers.
No matter what the future will bring, this is a good moment to be reminded of the importance of having your own platform.
Lately, I've been trying to consolidate all my sources of inspiration in a RSS app. Instagram doesn't allow this, so the photographers who share their work exclusively on that platform are out; Twitter is playing nice... for now; but the ones that work the best are regular old websites and blogs.
Relying on social media to connect with peers and share your work was a great idea; exclusively using those platforms was a very bad idea.
I get it, a blog can be boring. It can feel like you are talking to no one. If you think the engagement is low on IG, just wait until you post on your own website.
And yet, I believe it's very important to have your own place, your little home in the Internet. Very few people will show up, but those are the ones that really matter. And of course, we can keep using social media and whatever platform comes next to reach new people and invite them to come over and look at what we have to offer.
If you don't have a website, I deeply encourage you to create one. Keep it simple. And then share it with all the people you've connected with over the years, so they know where they can find you in case the metaverse doesn't cut it for you.
Tree of Norway
Norway, November 2022.
The urge to create
It feels like a wildfire inside you, one that won't stop until you start creating something.
Peaceful day by the fjord
Norway, November 2022.
Why I don't consume a lot of photography
The sheer amount of amazing images being made nowadays can be overwhelming. “Comparison is the thieve of joy”; and today, there’s no shortage of photographs to compare ours to. This can make us feel miserable.
This is why I don’t consume a lot of photography. I follow a handful of photographers whose work I admire, enough to get some inspiration every once in a while, and focus all my energy on developing my own vision and approach to the medium.
Simply copying someone else’s work won’t lead us anywhere, but constantly trying to stand out among the crowd can be even worse. Our work shouldn’t be based on what others have or haven’t done. We need to stop trying to be unique, because we already are.
Waterfall by the side of the road
Norway, October 2022.
Photography is about not giving up
“The prize never goes to the fastest guy. It goes to the guy who slows down the least.” ~ Finding Ultra
Photography is not a marathon. It’s a million marathons, one after the other.
You can find some success with a lucky image, but a body of work is done and built over decades of dedication to the craft. Day after day.
This means taking new photos as often as possible, but also working on the ones we’ve already taken. Reflecting on them. Putting them in books, publishing them online, sharing our experiences. Day after day.
Photography is relatively easy, there’s no secret to it: no magic setting we are yet to discover, no better camera we should buy, no missing preset we should get, no discontinued film stock we should miss.
Everyone wants a shortcut because the truth is boring: it’s about putting the work, the hours, about never giving up. And the prize is that we get to do it again tomorrow.
Urnes stavkyrkje, I
Norway, November 2022.
On resetting yourself
A stable and repetitive life is probably bad for photography, and art in general. If we believe our photography is a reflection of our lives -as I do-, then doing interesting stuff should lead to compelling images.
On the other hand, being on the move the whole time won't leave us any time to actually process what we've done. We need to take a moment to look at the map to check where we are, and to appreciate what we've done.
There's a time to be moving, and there's a time to reflect.
As you know, I'm a big fan of local photography, but I also love to shake things up with the occasional road trip. It's in the combination of the routine, the boring, the repetitive... and the new, the exciting, the chaos... that I thrive the most.
I credit our nomadic lifestyle and the balance between chaos and routine it creates, as one the reasons why I am so committed to my photography.
Every time we move (and that might happen a few times a year), our physical location is just one of the things that change in our lives: diet, habits, language we speak at the grocery store, people we interact with on a daily basis... but eventually, one adapts to the new reality. Routine always finds a way.
Have you tried turning it off and on again?
As annoying as this question might be, there's a reason why it's the first one customer support asks -- it usually fixes the problem.
Perhaps, we need to perform a little reset on ourselves every once in a while, too.
Morning Sun
Norway, October 2022.
Dock by the fjord
Norway, October 2022.
Why I shoot a lot ~ A whole day of photography in Norway
I shoot a lot. Like a lot. Everyday. And I have very good reasons to do so. Come with me as I explore yet another beautiful location here in Norway, and I show you every single shot I take.
Nærøyfjord light
Norway, November 2022.
The hill, the tree and the church
Norway, November 2022.
One very foggy morning
Lillehammer, Norway, October 2022.
Rainy and windy day at the fjord
Norway, November 2022.
The campground
Strömstad, Sweden, October 2022.