Growing up in California you don’t really gain an appreciation for sunrises – waking up early is always a lesser notion to romantic strolls as a deep citrus glow dances on the surface of the Pacific under a swirling mix of orange and purple. But in Korea, sunrises are hard not to appreciate as the morning wakes you up with it’s ambient energy gliding over the rolling mountains that pave the landscape.Read more "From Dokdo – Dokdo is a Line"
In a crowd filled with seemed like every other person was lugging a camera with telescopes on the ends of them, I stood as flocks of models and photographers passed by with my own camera at my hip that looked like a point and shoot you bring on a family outing. But this was Seoul during Fashion Week. Everyone here had high powered lenses, the genre almost requires it. And here I was, not intimidated, but unexpectedly excited, searching with my eyes for something to shoot.Read more "The Increasing Apathy of Fashion: Sights From Seoul’s Fashion Week."
A woman stares at a man. A fresh ember glows on the end of a cigarette that sits at the end of an arm on an armrest. The man stares off, away from the smoke-filled dining area out through the thick plastic veil onto the cold wet street.Read more "From Japan – Manual Yellow"
Architecture Photography in Urban Tokyo is best seen from the ground up.Read more "From Japan – Geographic Iconography of the Tokyo Urban Landscape"
Mongolia does not lend itself to the 4×6 frame. It does not fold itself down to fit in the constrained rectangle of the flat image. It’s stubborn in that way. With Mongolia, like with everywhere else, I used my lens to interrogate the landscape, figuring out Mongolia by finding a way to fit it into a 4×6.Read more "From Mongolia – Form and Air"
Time continues to slow to a crawl. I’m stuck in my head. I can’t see a way out. I realize at this point I have no escape. I can only think of one option. Honesty is my Hail Mary. Honesty isn’t an exploitable weakness here, it’s the perfect retaliation. It’s the antithesis of their game, it allows me to run in the opposite direction of where they want me to go. But I need to be stubborn.Read more "From Nepal – The Artist (Part Two)"
“I need to go to an ATM,” I say to the Nepalese man whose name I’ve long forgotten. “Yes, we will go,” assuring me as we start walking from what he told me was his art school. This is probably not the conversation I should be having with someone I just met an hour before.Read more "From Nepal – The Artist (Part One)"
This is where I see a man in my periphery, as my eyes darting back and forth trying to get a hold of the situation, look behind him across the street then he looks at me and says “Stephan?” But I don’t notice where he was looking at or why he did it; the mob he is a part of is distracting and it gets lost in the static of the situation.Read more "From Nepal – On Arrival"