A smoky morning in Yosemite Valley
I had luckily nabbed a campsite in Camp 4, Yosemite Valley the day I was set to arrive. My limited time just passing through meant, unfortunately, I only had time to hit all the most popular spots. But there was a forest fire somewhere in the park, and as evening progressed, it got progressively smokier. I photographed this location at sunset, overnight under the stars, and was planning on just hitting the road the next morning.
But I woke up pre-dawn under a grey-brown sky. The smoke had completely filled the valley overnight, having been windless. So I decided to dash out, half awake, and drove to tunnel view a third time. What you see here is what I saw. The sun cut like a knife through the smoke at dawn, and the valley itself was just shapes and silhouettes.
Searching for a unique view of Multnomah Falls
With this image, I aimed to capture a unique perspective of Oregon’s most popular (and tallest) waterfall. I spent a few days exploring the Washington side of the Columbia River, specifically searching for a vantage point that would make the well-known waterfall appear both recognizable and unique. Pulling the perspective back and framing the falls along the cliff really highlights its immense size. The visible part of the falls here drops 542 feet (165 meters), and this perspective conveniently hides both the famous bridge and lodge, as well as the interstate highway that runs right next to it.
I chose to use a long exposure to blur the details of the Columbia River, ensuring that the waterfall and verdant cliff face took center stage. During the shot, a torrential hailstorm was raging above me, but late-afternoon sunlight broke through mid-exposure, warming the opposite cliff face and giving it a strange, natural glow.
Playing with my new Fuji G617 in Santa Barbara
The first shot I ever took with my Fuji G617 camera, a special film camera that shoots 3×1 panoramas on 120 film. Like the XPan’s bigger brother. Half birthday present, half impulse purchase, this camera is largely responsible for morphing me into the photographer I am today. It is undoubtedly a difficult and sometimes frustrating camera, but this first roll of film made me fall in love with it anyways.
Phlog #9: Smith Rock Climber
Revisiting some of my favorite older photos while filling in the back catalog of my blog here gives me such a peculiar feeling. I want to delve into the specifics of why I took the shots, but I struggle to articulate it. I can talk about the deliberate choice to include both snowy peaks in the background or waiting for the climber to strike a natural pose against the rock. However, while I remember considering these aspects at the time, I couldn’t tell you precisely why I chose when I did or what I was trying to convey.
I adore this photo, and it marks one of the first times I experimented with 3D capture. I had access to two camera bodies and duplicate lenses, so I constructed a custom rig. I set the cameras eye-width apart on a metal slide and used a remote shutter to trigger them simultaneously. The image displayed here is just one of those captured, but if you had access to a 3D TV, VR headset, or stereoscope, the experiment would be a resounding success. It would be fascinating to see it applied somehow.
Phlog #8: Snow Zone
I love many aspects of this photo. The mysterious way the trees disappear into the fog and the almost unnatural way the frost clings to the branches captivate me. I’ve been eager to witness similar conditions again, as I now have numerous ideas for a series of images inspired by this scene.
Phlog #7: MOMA Visitors
I’ve always had a fascination with silhouettes—specifically, near-silhouettes where there’s just enough shadow detail to see, but not enough to immediately notice.
One evening, while wasting time around San Francisco before dinner, I wandered through the Museum of Modern Art and came across these sculptures made of fluorescent lights. They are part of a series of 39 physical monuments created by Dan Flavin in 1964, dedicated to the Russian artist Vladimir Tatlin.
In hindsight, I wish I had put more effort into thinking of a meaningful connection between the art and my photo. Unfortunately, I only learned about the artist after the fact.
Phlog #6: Tacoma Museum of Glass
This is one of those photos I still like, even though it’s clear I wasn’t making deliberate choices when I took it. It’s funny how, as you grow as an artist, your older work evokes different feelings.
I shot it at f/2.8 even though the image has deep focus. I obviously had enough light to work with, since I shot it at 1/2500s.
Live and learn. Despite its technical flaws, I still like the photo.
Phlog #4: Mount Hood October 2017
This remains one of my favorite shots of Mount Hood. The motion of the clouds, the angle of the sun, and the snow level all came together perfectly. I wish I could be lucky enough to see similar conditions again, as I have grown as an artist since then. Now, I would pay much more attention to the edges and the shape of the trees.
Mid-fall, when fresh snow begins to blanket the higher elevations and the roads are still clear, has become my favorite time of year. This period usually lasts only about a week before the first big snow covers the mountain roads entirely. It’s a rare and fleeting occurrence, but it’s worth seeking out.
I entered this image into the Nature Conservancy’s 2017 photo contest and was chosen as a finalist.
Phlog #3: Portland Skyline 2016
This photo captures the Portland skyline when I first moved there. Back then, I wasn’t as research-oriented in my photography, but I’m glad I discovered this spot. Portland’s skyline has always been challenging to photograph. The buildings are relatively small, adhering to a city ordinance that limits most structures to 460 feet or less. Additionally, the buildings aren’t arranged in an aesthetically pleasing layout, particularly when viewed directly from the east or west, as you might from the esplanade. The best angles are diagonal, but finding a clean diagonal view is difficult.
Looking at past skyline photos, especially if you know the city well today, always gives me a strange feeling because so many buildings have changed. One day, I might replicate this shot, matching the framing, scale, and weather conditions, just for contrast.
Venice Beach Skaters at Sunset
I took this photo while traveling through Los Angeles. Wandering aimlessly, I found myself near the Venice Beach skate park and decided to join the crowd watching the skaters. As I observed, patterns began to emerge, and when the sun started reflecting off the concrete, I knew I had found the shot I wanted.
I spent about an hour photographing different skaters in various positions, aiming to evoke the feel of the Last Supper painting, but in near-silhouette. It was a deliberate choice to set the exposure to retain some detail in the shadows. I experimented with the composition, trying to center the prominent skater, but it felt unbalanced with the concrete backdrop. Eventually, I settled on this composition.
This photo was entered into the 2017 Monochrome Photography Awards and received an honorable mention in the “People” category.
