Carolina In My Mind
Hey there - it’s been a while since I have made a dedicated post to a collection of photos accompanied with some context to set the scene. I recently traveled to the east coast of North Carolina for a friend’s wedding. The last time I had visited either Carolina was approximately 15 years ago when I did not have my ambitions set on visual arts so I did not fully know, or remember, what to expect. All of that to be said, I was stoked to get back to this area and connect with the landscapes and people. The photos included, here, were primarily taken at Wrightsville Beach and Carolina Beach — both of which were around a 20-30 minute drive from where I was staying in Wilmington. Having visited in early November, the beaches did not reflect a summertime vibe as the winds were heavy, surfers clung to their bodysuits, and civilians prepared for a changing of seasons. Don’t tell anyone but that is actually how I prefer it.
2021 Travels
This year was not quite what I had expected it to be and yet it was exponentially better than 2020.
Seeing as how time has flown by in these last few pandemic-ridden years, I figured I would return to some reflection and highlight my travels from 2021. I did something like this in 2019 but did not craft anything up last year for obvious reasons. In creating a piece like this, my hope is to maybe inspire people to check out new places in the coming year.
Unlike 2019, I did not go abroad but I did get to see a decent portion of the United States. Some of these places were familiar and others were not. Regardless of the destination, having my camera on my arm, ready to shoot anything and everything, was a feeling I wanted to get back to. I will say between mountains, oceans, national parks, interstate highways, and friends/family along the way it was a solid year. Now here I am eager to sum it all up and recall some of my favorite parts of these trips. If I have learned anything lately, it is to not take time or traveling for granted as our lives can change rapidly.
Anyways, I hope this post informs, interests, or at least somewhat visually pleases you with some of my images preceding my thoughts on each section. Thanks for reading and blessings in the New Year!
Oregon - March
The Pacific Northwest is simply one of my favorite regions in the world. It has such a visceral mystique to it with the overcast days, temperate climate, and diverse natural attractions. The browns, greens, and blues of the land are soothing and energizing at the same time. Anyways, starting on the very west coast of the country was the famous Cannon Beach and Ecola State Park. This area was an awesome preview as to what could be expected in coming days. With massive boulders jutting up from the ocean (see: Haystack Rock) and tons of space to roam due to the heavily receded shore line, it felt like I was able to explore the coast in a different way than normal. Cannon beach and most of the coastal towns in Oregon have a semblance of adventure versus relaxation, at least in my opinion. People had fires going, dogs were running all over the place and everyone was happily bundled in their vibrant raincoats.
I’ll add that Cannon Beach is not too far south of Astoria, OR which is a unique town just minutes via bridge to the Washington border. Astoria, in fact, was an actual film location of the Goonies and it felt that way - small shops, local town landmarks, emphasis on the ocean, etc.
After some time on the coast, my mom and I then headed to Portland. Comparable to Denver in many ways, Portland had a nice feel to it. Although the city was still in the throes of covid protocols, it was interesting to get a perspective on the area. Portland has a handful of bridges due to the Williamette River carving its way through the city and so to the west was the business/commercial area and the east was more neighborhoods and local shops. It played right into the stereotypes I had been aware of previously - hipster, environmentally-friendly, and coffee shops on every corner.
The city is also only about 80 minutes north from one final stop on this trip: Silver Falls State Park, the largest state park in Oregon and home to ten waterfalls. Outside of Salem, this park felt a bit more rural until you are in the thick of it and see the waterfalls cascading to create their own little world. The hike gets better and better and it doesn't matter which route is taken, the beauty that surrounds is undeniable.
Across the country, sort of - June
My dad and I started in Denver, drove across the midwest to Pittsburgh, PA, south to Memphis, TN, then back home. Along this expedition of 3600 total miles and 12 states were markers such as, but not limited to, Lincoln, NE, Red Oak, IA, Indianapolis, IN, Nashville, TN, Wheeling, WV, Columbus, OH, Louisville, KY and Kansas City, MO. I realize not all of those sound like the most interesting places along the way but I think that's the point of a road trip. Obviously you will want to see the attractions and big-name places but the obscure, never-before-heard-of-rinky-dink spots are what make it memorable. They add to the intricacies of the memories. However, some places are unheard of for good reason. Some real weirdos out in this country.
Moreover, I appreciated seeing even for a brief moment or two such a large surface area of the United States. I always think about how long and arduous the work must have been for early American developers to get all of the country's highways and roads built and connected. The change of scenery from mountainous Colorado was very stark, as well. Plenty of fields, barren towns, farms, basically what makes up the unpopulated middle piece of the States.
Bringing it back to the major stopping points, Pittsburgh and Memphis were both great in their own respects. I was able to see the devotion of Pittsburghers to their sports teams, a crazy amount of bridges connecting the city’s gnarled highways, visit sites related to a favorite artist of mine, Mac Miller, and also go a bit southwest to some state park areas with sweet rivers, falls, and general hiking. Memphis, on the other hand, was more familiar to me. Distant family out in Memphis meant we had to stop on the way back to Denver. I will say the humidity for someone who lives at altitude was ungodly but sharing great food and even better conversation made it worthwhile. Being older this time around, I had a new appreciation for the family history and physical home in which my family resides in. More of those intricate memories I previously mentioned. On the way out of Memphis before heading west, we also stopped by Sun Studio - famous recording destination that has hosted Elvis, Johnny Cash, Roy Orbison and many more legends.
Jackson, WY - August
My first time to Jackson was great, I could see the Tetons. 2021 was not my first time to Jackson and I could not see the Tetons...for a bit. Doomsday smoke was present for 99% of the eight hour drive up to Jackson from Denver. With air quality ratings in the 150's, my friend and copilot debated leaving due to such thick, smoky air. It was not a bad idea except for the fact that the smoke was somehow worse in Denver at the time. So we stayed, unable to see the Tetons for about the first 36 hours of our trip. Luckily, our host and mutual friend is a tour-guide-extraordinaire so we improvised and he showed us around the small ski town while we decided how to proceed.
The next day we drove about an hour or so east to a small city I must not name (not for sinister reasons but rather to preserve the beauty of what I'm about to explain). Once we passed through this unnamed town we took a dirt and gravel road for another 30-45 min. to spend the afternoon in what looked like a legitimate underground swimming cave. You would never know this existed unless you happened to have a buddy like we did who was moseying around long enough to find it. There was a rope atop the rocks we used to repel down to the water where we found ourselves swimming, having lunch, and shooting the sh--. It was awesome. I never would've imagined us doing that prior to going. So thanks smoky air, we improvised.
After two days, much luck, and wind to disperse the air, we were finally able to explore Grand Teton National Park with clear views of the mountains. It is such a great area because the Tetons are visible from virtually any spot. So we checked out Mormon Row (old barns and housing structures), Schwabacher Landing, and other focal points of the area. My copilot is also a photographer so we chose to stay in the park after dark with the starry skies to shoot some astrophotography. There is only one main road in and out of the park and let me tell you it is dark. Fortunately, we got some nice shots and Jupiter even made an appearance above us that evening.
Our plans did not perfectly line up to what we had imagined but, all in all, things went about as well as they could've.
Various spots in Colorado - Mostly September/October
As the summer had wrapped up, I did not have many other travel plans lined up for the end of the year but I was hoping to find some nice fall foliage within Colorado. It was late September and I tried checking out Estes Park and Rocky Mountain National Park. Temperatures were still warmer than usual and not a ton of moisture was able to soak in the mountains and bring out bright colors. However, I was able to capture two shots from my time up there that I had never gotten before. The first was a shot of the Stanley Hotel perched in front of some impressive rock faces bathing in the late afternoon sunlight. This image was taken atop a parking garage about a mile or so away from the hotel and I was super happy with the image and general vantage point. The second shot was my first ever photograph of a bear which was taken in Rocky Mountain National Park. I was able to luckily get this shot at the very end of my time in the park. All foliage was premature so there were really only small patches of yellow leaves scattered throughout the park which was discouraging. However, on the way out of the park I saw numerous cars lined up on a side road and inquired to find out a black bear was nearby on a slope in front of everyone. With a lack of compelling images from before, I decided to hop out of the car and attempt to get something. I had a 70-200 mm lens zoomed all the way in and, with some cropping, came away with a decent image. The quality left a bit to be desired but the subject and location itself made for a fun afternoon in RMNP.
After striking out in a foliage sense earlier in the month, I decided to travel southwest to the Montrose/Ridgway/Telluride area about ten days later. This trip yielded some great images and I was able to shack up with family that lives in that area which helped a ton. Having a home-cooked meal, a bed, and some time to relax in between shooting allows for the trip to be enjoyable and not rushed. Believe me, I’ve been on my fair share of last-minute, poorly planned endeavors. Moving on, the Black Canyon of the Gunnison around sunset was the first stop and it produced some great textures and depth. Most of my shots were around the Painted Wall rock face and some more were taken cruising around the canyon in a convertible before it got too cold. Happy with those shots, there were two other spots I had on my list that I eventually checked out: The Dallas Divide and Owl Creek Pass. The Dallas Divide is essentially a stretch of road just outside of the city of Ridgway. Towards the top of the road there is a nice vantage of Mount Sneffles and open meadows. The day I was shooting was a bit bright and sunny but conditions still allowed for some nice compositions. Owl Creek Pass on the other hand takes some more careful driving up and around gravel roads that wind you through the mountains. This drive delivered some great color, wide open views, and perspectives of the mountains I had never seen before.
Whether the reds and oranges were missing or not, this whole chunk of Colorado has to be one of the most scenic regions in the country; it's hard to go wrong. *Side note* Less than a week after I left, temperatures dropped, snow came in, and so did a bunch more color...can't win 'em all.
Viral Menace
To preface this, this passage was written in regards to a piece of artwork done by Ralph Steadman. The prompt I was referencing essentially said: use this artwork to devise a story or blog to explain the COVID pandemic. Below is what I came up with.
“Viral Menace” by Ralph Steadman
The Viral Menace is no singular entity, it is all of us. We are all that strung-out, decaying creature. We were before the pandemic and may remain to be after. We are trying to stand tall in the midst of utter chaos and uncertain conditions. Are we faring well? That depends on who you may ask. Having been through the hellscape of 2020 which is now bleeding into 2021, it is easy to associate “viral” with both its infectious and digitally-oriented connotations. As time passes, the two meanings are beginning to coincide.
The pandemic has unleashed unprecedented conditions upon us - conditions that, through time, have become normalized whether that be sitting behind a laptop for eight hours in pajamas with coffee in-hand, Clorox wiping your space from ceiling to floor, or even dissociating from regular social conventions. Moreover, recalling specific memories and experiences within the pandemic seems like an oxymoron to me. With each passing day, events and conversations blur together creating a foggy, non-linear sequence of events. You see, to me, the pandemic is the experience and everything else we use to fill our days with are simply byproducts of a foreign situation.
Despite the vague tapestry I have painted regarding the pandemic, those aforementioned byproducts are what lead me back to human nature resembling the Viral Menace. Naturally, we want to connect more so now than ever to let each other know they are not alone in this. No harm in that. However, our obsessive-compulsive habits with letting our voices be heard online has created more public discord now than ever. In what should be an ideally harmless space for humans to coexist, social media and online discourse have revealed our seemingly inherent need for the upper hand.
The pandemic’s all-encompassing nature proves none of us are immune to external circumstances of these proportions. So, now that there is somewhat of a level ground for people to appreciate, stark differences about almost anything on earth are surfacing - just for the sake of argument. We all contribute to this. While “viral” is a double entendre in this case, our digital activity is literally infecting our consciousness as a people. Hatred, discrepancies, and misinformation soak in our brains and get squeezed out into our actions which have proven volatile.
Nowadays, when opposition exists in discourse, the tendency is to eradicate said opposition instead of trying to understand it. Difference in opinion should exist in modern society. The troubling element to this, though, is that our differences are becoming so severely polar and any semblance of a middle ground is evaporating. People like to blame society for influencing them to think a certain way when, in reality, we all have a role to play in our localized and popular culture. With moral and ethical lines being drawn everyday, choosing a side seems to be the only safe option. However, we must reject this line of thinking or else the essence of empathy and compassion are rendered futile.
We have created a monster - a Viral Menace, indeed - taking what was once meant to connect us and now using it as a tool to divide. How is this mass state of anxiety and antagonism supposed to remedy itself? I suppose that is a simple yet complicated question.
You know, after a first glance, my initial thought about the vibrant, splattered red beneath the Menace was that it symbolized destruction as if the Menace was weathering a battleground only to be the last standing - everything else collapsing under its reign. Although it has appeared to outlast, its maniacal, corroding expression leads me to surmise that the Viral Menace itself has the awareness to realize it, too, shall fall one day.
Perhaps that is looking at the glass as half-empty.
Maybe, in fact, it is the Menace that is being destroyed instead of its surroundings. Just maybe, it knows it can no longer sustain itself when its surroundings quit supplying sustenance. With a final plea for help as it sinks, no helping hand is in sight to rescue this cancerous creature.
Each and every solution to our problems must start with us looking inward to contemplate the unhealthy and infectious reality we have created. We cannot continue to fuel the fire of negativity and disparity. If no concentrated efforts prevail and people decide they are content with the commotion of modern life, we might as well continue to serve as the Viral Menace. If this pandemic has taught us anything, it should be that we are all subject to physical and mental infection of epic proportions.
Visual Awesomeness Isn't Quite Cutting It Anymore
Last night, as a part of my evening routine, I went on to YouTube and found some videos to watch about photography. After mindlessly browsing around for a bit, I stumbled upon a video by an incredible photographer, Peter McKinnon, about how to "actually crush your instagram game in 2020". Let me just say, I really enjoy most of Peter's videos but this one was not particularly catching my attention - mostly because it was the same rhetoric I've heard a million times about how to leverage Instagram to your advantage as a photographer and grow a huge following.
Anyways, a minor part of the video did, however, make me stop and think. About three minutes in before talking about strategies he says, "I think the problem with Instagram is that you get bored of it, fast. You're looking at all of these awesome photos and the awesomeness starts to fade away and become less awesome. You just think 'this is normal, I see this all the time'... this was happening to me, even with my own work."
Even if that idea may seem a bit simple or obvious, as a photographer it kind of worries me because I 100% agree with the sentiment. Instagram does get boring - sometimes I even scroll up and down my phone without realizing what I'm actually looking at, completely zoned out. We all do it from time to time. It seems like after five minutes or so my brain can't really absorb or interact with the content in front of me. Another element that makes Instagram lose its instant appeal is its algorithm which reinforces content you already see often throughout the day. This is done to "personalize" your experience but it really just creates an echo chamber that ends up showing you the same profiles and topics over and over again. Last time I checked, monotony is boring.
Anyways, since I see a lot of content from other photographers, I begin to be swarmed by numerous amazing images each time I use the app. Eventually, all of the incredible photos I come across start to feel less unique, less personal, and less inspiring solely because I see so much of it in such short spurts of time. It's de-sensitizing in a way. I can still recognize a great image but it may not stick to me the way I think it should.
This worries me for two reasons: one, I don't want my audience to become bored and quickly move past my images and two, I don't want to create this high standard for myself that matches what I've seen from other great photographers only to inevitably feel indifferent or dissatisfied with what I have created because it's already somewhat been done before. On the other end of that, though, I hope people appreciate what photographers go through in order to make a stunning shot - starting from scouting locations all the way to putting finishing touches on an edit. They may be posting something brilliant in their minds that only is 'meh' to the viewer because it's been done before or because they've seen 10 wonderful images before yours.
I guess what I ultimately mean by all of this is that I worry about losing the desire to create compelling images. People nowadays are so easily able to find the most beautiful shot of anything they can think of - portraits, landscapes, public events, the list goes on. There really is so much beauty out there! But wait, doesn't the story behind an image count for something? To this, I would say of course. But only if your audience cares enough to dive into the story with you. What's a good story if no one is around to listen? Do people even care about the image/explanation you post or is just muscle memory at this point to double tap for no reason?
Something else I try to be aware of in this thought process is that even though one of my images may have been created before by someone else, it's worth recognizing personal progress within that image. Maybe it was composed better than it would've been a year ago or maybe it showed a more advanced level of technical skill or even had a cleaner edit to it. I seem to be in this weird limbo with wanting to appreciate how far I've come yet also wanting to develop more complex projects that aren't as common or surface level.
At this point in my relatively short photography career, I primarily want to create images that cater to my vision and style but I would be lying if I said that I didn't care if my audience enjoyed the photos, too. As I see it, to become a professional photographer you must first become skilled enough through your own vision and technique to be noticed and secondly, those images must then be compelling enough for people to want to buy a magazine or buy a print or to want to hire you.
Beginner, hobbyist, or professional, all photographers want their images to last on and never fade away. I want to be remembered for my dedication to this craft and my ability to visually intrigue people. Photography is a never-ending process that has and will outlast social media platforms.
All of this rambling aside, that Peter McKinnon YouTube video has definitely made me think about how to be more engaging and how important it is to try and stand out in such a talented, saturated field. Instagram sucks for a lot of reasons but at the end of the day, for an emerging artist especially, it does provide an accessible platform to display work so I shouldn't complain.
It's probably fair to say that I think too much about all of this stuff.
Oblivion
This post was written circa August 2018.
I could stare at an ocean for hours…ebbing and flowing, coming and going…
…Most would see this place and think it’s merely a sight on the way to something more exciting. Pigeon Point is about as far from San Francisco as it is from Monterey, CA. Pigeon Point isn’t even a city or recognizable landmark. So why did it hit me so hard? This is a little spot off of Cabrillo highway with a lighthouse…so what?
I’ve been wondering this since I returned back to Colorado – so what, ‘it is just a lighthouse facing the coast, right’? Boiled down, yes, it is. But something about being here for 30 minutes touched me so deeply. Although the lighthouse appeared to be decommissioned, something about its semblance made me feel as if it had a misunderstood past. To someone indifferent, all to be seen is rusting metal laying beneath chipped paint on a hundred-foot tall lighthouse. But when you peel back a layer, much more is to be recognized. Seeing vicious waves consistently hit the jagged, amber rocks is a beautiful sight. It fascinates me to witness how entities so powerful can be both overwhelming yet controlled and calm.
When I see the Pigeon Point lighthouse, I see a beacon of hope. Yes, I realize that a giant, linear figure on the edge of the coast is bound to be seen as a literal beacon. This lighthouse stood tall in the face of years and years of erosion and torment by Mother Nature (it was built in 1876 so, yes, it has withstood over 140 years of weathering). This relatively insignificant location has endured. The kiwi-green moss and rosy red vegetation illuminate the moody, dark hues of the sea. When I see the vegetation interacting with the rocks and life beneath the surface I feel connected to something bigger.
Smelling scents from miles and miles away, seeing out into the dynamic water, and hearing waves crash forever is why I connect to the idea of infinity. Being able to take in moments and extend them to a larger scale makes memories so valuable to me. Although I was only at Pigeon Point briefly, this was a place that made me feel life. Life in the world, life in people, and life in myself. Life so saturated with energy and color. Life so linked yet diverse.
I think these vivid feelings are why I love taking landscape photos so much. No matter where I go, I feel something bigger than myself – in the trees, in the breeze, in the water, in the sky. Life is simpler in nature. It asks nothing of humans yet we marvel in its presence. Nature operates independently but gives to us more than we could ever imagine. It’s strange to find comfort in mysterious ways of the world but we all do, more or less.
When I dream, I don’t fear water. Yeah, I could drown without the ocean skipping a beat. If I were to fall in, I imagine peaceful oblivion. This is why I don’t fear the water. I embrace it. I am no surfer or aquatic creature but learning how to be one with the ocean changes a person. Whether it’s the menacing 10 foot waves in Paia, HI or the melancholy ways of Seattle waters, being in the ocean is a time of chaotic peace.
I always wonder what is out there.
And that wonder keeps me going.