In 2014, my wife Linda and I packed our bags, sold our house, sold our stuff and began a new life on the road in a motorhome. In the sixteen months since, not a day has gone by that I'm not grateful for this experience.
While the length and breadth of the United States can be measured in terms of the size of its physical space, the experience of traveling on its roads cannot be accurately gauged.
The older I get, the wiser I become and with that wisdom comes a new way of processing the world. As a photographer, this keeps me constantly stimulated. When I return to a place after a time, I see it with new eyes.
I have made it a point to shoot something every day. Doing this has sharpened my photographic instincts and, because I am in no particular hurry, I can take the time to experiment with new techniques or simply be really mindful to what I'm capturing.
I count myself as one of the lucky ones who, not only has the opportunity to experience so many places, but also has a perpetual childlike wonder of everything around me. Small things thrill me; the angle of a window here, a shard of light on a mountain there. Every day I find something that moves me in some way.
I never become complacent about the absolute miracle of photography itself. Seeing something wonderful in front of me and then being able to somehow seize its essence and relive that feeling again through a photograph is truly unbelievable. It's that inner child that keeps me wide-eyed and excited. It's a shame that many of us build walls around that innocence as we grow older. It robs us of the opportunity to live life to the fullest.
A perfect blend of architecture and beauty. Photoshoots are not allowed at the Salk Institute in San Diego. After some finger-wagging by a security guard, we had to leave. Fortunately, I managed to get the one shot I really wanted.
I never grow tired of photographing my daughter Tara. She is a natural in front of the lens. Funny story about the image on the right shot at the Salk Institute. I had to remove the security guard from the background in Photoshop. This was the last shot I made before we were "asked" to leave :)
Another architectural beauty, this time it's the Hotel Del Coronado in San Diego. I decided to shoot this one with an ultrawide lens for maximum drama.
A Rose is a Rose
While this probably looks like any old flower photo to most people, for me it's a little different. I paired my camera with an old Russian vintage lens called a Helios 44-2. The result feels decidedly non-digital to me and it has a warmth I really like.
While this probably looks like any old flower photo to most people, for me it's a little different. I paired my camera with an old Russian vintage lens called a Helios 44-2. The result feels decidedly non-digital to me and it has a warmth I really like.
Cactus in the Sunset
I used the same vintage lens for this shot. The typical sharp edges of a digital capture are lost in favor of a more analog subtlety and colors that match the glow of the evening sun.
I used the same vintage lens for this shot. The typical sharp edges of a digital capture are lost in favor of a more analog subtlety and colors that match the glow of the evening sun.
We returned to Borrego Springs briefly before we left California. There's something about this whole area that feels like it's stuck in a 1950s time warp. I processed this photograph using colors that evoke that era.
Abandon and decay by the Salton Sea. The beach wins the grand prize for the worst stench I have ever had the displeasure to witness. The abundance of rotting fish made it truly gag-inducing.
While visiting the farmers market in Temecula, CA, I noticed this group of costume-clad individuals setting up for some kind of event. I shot it with the old Russian lens mentioned earlier. Without the distraction of anything modern in the frame, the image, for me, has a painterly feel.
My Adobe Spark (formerly Slate) presentation of this post is available here
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