Take Me Back…

A couple months ago a buddy of mine reached out to me and asked if I wanted to fly to Colorado and get some photos of his team for the annual pond hockey tournament in Georgetown, CO.

Obviously, I couldn’t say no.

Check out the video and don’t forget to like and subscribe.

Pond hockey season!

Captions:

Hockey was literally invented on a frozen pond… there's not a chance in hell I'm going to miss the opportunity to take photos of pond hockey.

Oh you want to get walked i'll walk you i'll [ __ ] walk you.

[Music] what's up y'all welcome to the Goat Path the channel about photography and my journey through it today we're talking about [Applause] hockey in covers Shane Wright hit hard by thought he had it somehow that is kept out specifically we're talking about pond hockey and the chance I had to go to Denver to shoot a tournament for a buddy of mine shout out to Justin on Twitter i've loved hockey since I was a little kid grew up playing goalie which probably explains a lot anyway I've loved hockey since the Rangers won the Stanley Cup back in '94 ark Douglas Messier i remember when Tim Salani played for the Winnipeg Jets with 54 goals how did he celebrate he went duck hunting i remember Marty Brodeur's goal his first one broad controlling the net is empty he throws it down and in he scored a goal i watched live as Patrick Roy fought Mike Vernon huddles up with the

right how about this and then Chris Osgood here we go once again we go again osgood and Wah it was a a year ago i remember Curtis Joseph going [Applause] crazy Joseph is furious Dominic Hasek being well Dominic

Kosik i don't believe it ladies and gentlemen another miracle kujo was my favorite though curtis Joseph got the paddle down on that one he was out of position and rallied back to make the incredible save i remember Mario

retiring and then [Applause] unretiring hell when I was growing up they were still teaching kids the kicks save it eliminates much of the inconsistencies in a goalender's play yeah that's a real thing they taught point is the Phoenix Coyotes were created and died in my lifetime and they were awful the entire time just bad i think I'd rather be a Browns fan

so every year in Colorado there's a pond hockey tournament and hundreds of teams from across the world literally across the world come to play in this threeon-ree tournament on a pond so the two teams I got to follow around throughout this whole tournament they're from the USA Warrior hockey program which is a program for disabled veterans um and their sister team brother team some sort of siblings uh from Denmark let me say from the start those guys can drink like we got to the hotel at 400 p.m and they had been at the brewery next door since 10:00 and they were out drinking everybody still

[Applause]

yeah they tried to teach us the song we just said skull when we got to that point

pretty easy so keep in mind I'm doing all of this on 10 days notice justin sent me a text he's like "Hey man i'm going out to this tournament do you want to come get some photos i was like "Hell yeah dude pond hockey why not?" The night before I can't sleep i got a 5:00 a.m flight it is 4:30 in the morning [Music] didn't sleep at all and I just I'm too excited and I'm a little worried that I'm going to miss my flight kind of reminds me of getting up rock practice remember those 4:30 a.m all that gear so I've never shot hockey before so this was a new experience for me so I figured take basically everything that I think I could possibly need for the entire weekend so I took my 24 to 105 lens i took my 150 to 600 lens i took my Osmo Pocket 3 which game changer if you don't have one get one best 500 bucks I ever

spent anyway both teams had four games they played each other once which was the highlight cuz uh there was some definite chirping going on worse than the goddamn Glade plugins hit him so hard he only has eight toes might want to dust that buck off oh yeah okay hey great pass why don't you put into a skate together i mean it wasing spot on hey Robbie 5 minutes is enough for you to inbreed at least two more kids go get on it hillbilly how the [ __ ] are you doing over there huh i don't know ask your mom she's pretty satisfied with my work so for that one game perfect amazing i'm getting photos of everybody i'm getting video of everybody no issues the other three games though they're playing at the same time in two different places so I got to split my time and figure out how I'm going to get the best shots of both teams so that I have something to give back to them honestly that's where the long lens came in handy uh I had both camera bodies on me so um I was able to get you know some nice wide angle shots and some nice enclosed shots and sometimes I was able to get shots from one rink towards the other rink it came in handy to have two different lenses and I got some great shots out of

it now there was a lot that went on that weekend a lot of good food a lot of good beer a lot of great hockey obviously but I think for me the best part had to

be the nostalgia hanging out with those guys all day every day for 4 days chilling drinking beer eating the good food having good conversations cuz it took me back to those days where I was in the locker room and I haven't been in a hockey locker room since college which is uh over 15 years now so it was it was just the best way to kind of relive th those years growing up on the ice playing with all those guys and it was almost like the hockey was secondary like it was just an excuse to get everybody together and I think for me that's the best part to go back to a game that I love so much to where it all started and to really try to capture that spirit that that community of people who just love hockey and love skating love being outside love being on the ice love being with their buddies that's what hockey is all about and I think that's that's what I was trying to capture and I think that's what I did

capture i think the community aspect of it is something I've been missing since I got to Montana i've only been here a year um you know I'm I'm still learning where everything is still kind of building my own community here but it was very good to to get to a place or go to a place where I was accepted pretty much right away um you know everybody knew I was the photographer they knew I wasn't playing they know I'm a vet and we just had a good time laughing drinking joking you know it was uh it was one of the cooler experiences and and this is part of why I love photography so much is that I have a curious mindset i'm curious about a lot of stuff you know leatherwork painters cooking hockey obviously all sorts of stuff and photography allows me the opportunity to go to these places and go to these events and meet different people and and just kind of learn about other people and I think that's something that we're really missing in this country is just being able to learn about other

people anyway thank you for watching hope you enjoyed it hit that like button hit that subscribe button and we'll see you next time [Music]

[Applause] [Music]

[Music]

it's honestly kind of [ __ ] that the bar is not open

Light the Flame

The past few years I’ve been working to learn all I can about photography, to find my own style, my own voice, and, ultimately, to master my craft.

I know “mastery” is a vague and nebulous term; something we make up so we feel better about constantly bashing our heads against a wall in the name of passion. But for some of us, we enjoy banging our head against the wall; the long nights poring over our work, the early mornings trying to catch that perfect sunrise, the customers and fans we don’t really want to deal with but we’re grateful for them anyway. All of it an exhausting walk, on a path to a place that doesn’t exist, to achieve a goal we’ll never really attain.

I know I’ve quoted Burnt before but it’s worth repeating: “it was God who made apples and oysters, and you can’t improve on recipes like that… but it is our job to try.”

So when an old, college friend, Hope MacGregor, asked me if I’d shoot a music video for her new EP, I was intrigued. I’d never shot a music video before. In fact, my experience with video in general was limited to 15- to 20-second product spots for Instagram and Facebook.

Little backstory on how Hope and I know each other: in high school, my dad went to a national conference for electric co-op nerds— I mean, editors and journalists— and he was bragging about his son getting into [school redacted] to her dad who then had to brag about his daughter getting into [school redacted] and then they spent the whole rest of the conference talking about [school redacted] and then they made us take a picture together before our first day of school…

…and on the day we graduated.

Alright… we’re back in.

She sent me samples of a couple of her songs and I was blown away. In college, she’d always been in glee club or choir or just in her room singing to JoDee Messina or Faith Hill and she had a lovely voice and was clearly talented. But there was something different, something more soulful, in her voice and in the songs she had written.

Obviously, I agreed to shoot the video and picked my favorite song.

Her being on the East Coast and me being on the West (Best) Coast made things a little tricky in terms of logistics but her time off from law school and my time doing photoshoots in DC lined up perfectly. So the plan was made, the general concept was agreed upon, and the terror of doing something new started to set in.

The intrusive thoughts started in a few days later: “you know nothing about music videos,” “you’re going to single-handedly ruin her career,” “why did you agree to this, you’re just going to fuck it up,” “have you even heard a country song?” I made up so many excuses in my head to cancel the whole trip, to get out of trying new things, new styles, and, ultimately, to avoid any chance of disappointing myself or my clients.

Having ten shoots in as many days in DC helped distract me from my terror but then it was time to make the drive from DC to North Carolina. My mind raced through the different shots I wanted to get, the different angles to best capture the spirit of the song, and the best way to tell the story the song was telling.

After working my way through traffic— and a torrential downpour that reduced the speed limit to 35 MPH on the interstate— I finally made it. Her and I caught up a little, remembered a few stories from college, and talked a little about the differences between then and now.

Around dinner time, one of her friends/collaborators came over for a rehearsal session, which gave me a chance to relearn how to use my gimbal and the video settings on my camera.

Somehow, I got lucky and was able to capture one of the purest moments I’ve ever witnessed:

Obviously, things were off to a great start and I was feeling good about my familiarity with my gear. It looked like smooth sailing ahead.

And then my confidence quickly disappeared.

Hope didn’t want to shoot the song we had planned on because it didn’t fit with the rest of the EP.

“No biggie,” I said, secretly panicking in my head, “which song do you want to shoot?”

“Truth Teller makes the most sense,” she said, “it’s the name of the album and really encompasses the purpose of me doing this in the first place.”

“Cool,” I said, panicking less, “send me the song and I’ll tell you what I come up with.”

So I listened to it a few times… and then a few more times… and then once more. I didn’t know why (at the time), but in that time, in that place, the song connected with something in my brain.

To that point, I hadn’t known the details behind the songs, hadn’t known the reasons the songs punched in just the right spot.

But now I had an idea that was starting to stick.

I headed back inside and asked, “so that song, what made you write it?”

“Well,” she said, “how long do you have?”

“I have two and a half days.”

From there she proceeded to tell me some of the more… cringe-inducing details about her now ex-spouse.

And that’s when I realized why the song resonated so much with me: gaslighting, narcissistic ex-spouses and the need to say, “fuck you, I’m gonna do me.”

Once that realization set in, my creative brain went wild. I had a shot list, two or three different ways those shots could work to tell the story, angles to get the shots I wanted, how to make the chorus work with the video and vice versa, it was the most creatively productive I’d been at 11 PM.

After getting the shots we wanted, editing the final video together, and dotting all the i’s, we had a finished product. And now came the hardest part: waiting to see if what we had poured ourselves into was worth it.

It’s the part non-artists don’t realize about musicians, photographers, painters, or artists in general.

Art isn’t easy; good art is downright hard.

It’s hard to be vulnerable enough and honest enough to say something worth a damn. It’s hard finding something that resonates so much in your soul that you can’t help but say it out loud.

Great art makes a connection with people.

That connection, that validation that you’re not alone in the world, makes the path worth traveling.

Enjoy the video, keep your feet moving.

A special thank you to Ashten’s in Southern Pines, NC and Shady’s in Garner, NC for allowing us to shoot at your location. If you’re in the area, stop by and have yourself a beer.

I Don't Believe You

Being complimented makes me uncomfortable.

I’m not sure when it started or why but for as long as I can remember, whenever someone compliments me, I become shy and dismissive.

I used to think it was my own form of modesty— my feeble attempt to at least appear humble.

But there’s always been more to it than that.

Past relationships, societal pressure, high school bullies, they played a role in self-doubt, self-esteem issues, and the typical body image issues.

It’s nothing new— everyone experiences their fair share of negative feedback or derisive comments. For the most part, a lot of us are able to process the negativity and filter it out of our minds.

The problem comes when the negativity comes from someone we love and/or respect. Parents, siblings, friends, romantic partners, the list goes on. We value the negative comments we’ve heard from our past without even considering the positive ones.

I think, in part, it has to do with the way our brains our wired for us to survive rather than to make us happy. We focus on the negative, and the painful reaction that ensues, because, in part, it’s a survival response. In some ways, we can’t help but focus on the negative.

To add insult to injury, we internalize those comments, make them a part of our self-identity. We somehow cement it in our brains that the negative comments we’ve heard in the past are 100-percent true. At some point, we can’t help ourselves. We begin not believing the people we love and care about and trust. Those opinions from people we do value fall on ears that can only hear the ingrained negativity of the past.

I want to believe you. But I don’t

Having done a couple boudoir shoots in the last few months (photos below), it’s interesting to see the discrepancy between what I think a good shot is and the clients’ immediate reactions to the same shots. It comes with a lot of “I just hate how my [x body part] looks” or “it’s a good composition but my [whatever blemish] is all I can see” which, as the person who captured, edited, and processed the shot, can get very frustrating. I try to remember their comments are based upon their own past traumas but sometimes that frustrates me even more; not with the client, but with the pressure to look like the ideal person.

It’s made me examine my own issues and my own thought processes— to the point I’ve done nude self-portraits just so I can battle those intrusive, negative thoughts (those photos also below). Somehow, someway, the negative comments I’ve received over the course of my life have stuck to the point where I don’t believe anyone when they compliment me or my work. For whatever reason, I think they’re lying or “just trying to make me feel better.”

Instead of saying “thank you” and being genuinely appreciative of the compliment, I wave it off as luck or not true or focus on a “flaw.”

I know it’s frustrating for those who do give compliments— to the point they stop complimenting which then leads to more self-doubt on my end. It’s not that I’m not appreciative or I don’t trust the person—for the most part I can objectively understand that they’re being genuine— but my brain won’t let me process what they say and embrace the fact that it could be true.

Not even that it is true, but that it could be true.

As with everything, I’m still growing and learning as a person. Accepting positive feedback will always be something I struggle with but, slowly, I’m learning to trust that the person on the other end of the compliment is really being authentic in their support.

It’s a process and I truly am grateful for everyone who has supported and continues to support me and my work.

Until next time:

Keep your feet moving

The Year of the Goat

Ok, so technically, 2022 is the year of the Tiger and the next year of the Goat is actually in 2027.

Fine, but I actually don’t care.

Amid the noise of New Years Resolutions and “New Year, New Me” mantras, it’s easy to dismiss this idea as pure attention-seeking bluster; something everyone says at the beginning of the year without the motivation or necessary skills to continue working towards those goals.

That said, I’m 33 days sober, I’ve gone a week without chewing tobacco, and I have therapy appointments scheduled in the next few weeks.

Within the next month, Remmy and I will be getting a new space— a place more conducive to the work/creative life balance (and more belly rubs for Remmy).

As much as the last few months of 2021 were awful (capped off by Betty White’s death ON NEW YEARS EVE!) and as small as these accomplishments are, I have some hope that these little victories will get 2022 started on the right foot.

I don’t offer a list of resolutions or goals for the year, I don’t have plans to rebrand and relaunch this site into something different, and I’m not promising 2022 will be better because there’s 364 days of it left to navigate.

All I offer is hope.

Hope that something good comes in 2022.

Hope that everyone survives whatever comes in the next 12 months.

Hope that, despite the bad that may come, we all remember where to find our smiles.

It’s not a lot but it could be enough.

So here’s hoping the new year brings you and yours some semblance of peace and serenity.

Keep your feet moving.

Unsure

It’s been a long couple of months.

Two record-breaking heat waves in the PNW, long days at work, dealing with the VA for my knee, and now, Afghanistan.

My initial feeling about the withdrawal and subsequent Taliban takeover was numbness. It was overwhelming to the point of my needing to just block it out of my mind so I could actually function.

As the week progressed, I slowly started thinking about what was happening and how I actually felt.

Truth is, I’m still not sure how I feel.

I think about 20 years in the same country, fighting the same enemy, with more or less the same strategy and I’m frustrated it’s taken this long to get out of there.

I think about the politicians who’ve used service members and veterans as props to win elections but doing nothing to actually change the situation and I’m pissed our political system is just a money grab.

I think about the voters who put them there (myself included) and I hate they haven’t paid more attention to the things happening in Afghanistan and didn’t push said politicians to come up with a coherent strategy.

I think about the media and the lack of coverage and I miss Walter Cronkite who had the guts to cover the Vietnam War in a way that made it matter.

I think of all the commanders in Afghanistan and all the corners we’ve turned there and I’m angry they lied and put their careers over their Soldiers, Sailors, Marines, and Airmen.

I think about the people I deployed with, many of whom worked with locals to help make their country safer and I worry for their mental health and hope they are processing this whole thing better than I am.

I think about all the Afghans trying to flee their homes and I feel helpless.

I think about the six months I spent in Afghanistan, sitting behind a desk, and contributing very little to the overall fight, and I feel like I don’t have the right to an opinion, like I shouldn’t be struggling this much.

I think about all my friends who deployed for full tours, some of them multiple times and I wish they could get that time back; that they could spend that time at home with their families.

I think about Dan Reilly and Adam Keys who both lost their legs and I feel sorrow for the sacrifices they made and that they will now have a much different life than they otherwise could’ve had.

I think about John Runkle, one of the best leaders and one of the best people I’ve known; about Dimitri Del Castillo, one of the most charismatic and optimistic people I’ve ever encountered, and I’m sad. They sacrificed themselves in Afghanistan, and we are right back where we started, with the Taliban in control, Al Qaeda regrouping, and a whole lot of people angry, confused, and pointing fingers.

It’s hard not to think their deaths— and the deaths of everyone in Afghanistan over the past two decades— was somehow in vain. It can’t be, how could this country sacrifice some of its best men and woman for nothing.

And then I think about Corey Rutherford.

For the one patrol I was a part of in Afghanistan, he was my driver. I didn’t know him well but I knew him enough. He was reserved but, in the right situation, very funny with a quick wit. Everyone in the battalion knew him or, at least, knew of him and was one of the most liked in the unit.

He served 14 years with multiple deployments as a linguist and earned the rank of Staff Sergeant.

He lost his life to suicide in 2019.

His death and the death of so many service members who died AFTER they came home will not be counted in the numbers of Americans killed as a result of this war… but they should be.

And I feel everything.

———————

With anything as complicated as the War in Afghanistan, the feelings are going to be complex.

There’s no one way to feel and there’s no one way to process everything—if it’s even possible to process everything in the first place.

In the mean time, I’m trying not to place blame or point fingers. It doesn’t really seem productive at the moment.

Instead, I’m trying to figure out how to help, what things I can do moving forward to contribute in any sort of way.

I think it’s time we all be kind and empathetic towards one another and figure out where we go from here.

Keep your feet moving

Could've Been Worse

“Looks like you forgot to pack your goat feet today.”

-Eddy Ellis, everyday at practice for three years

Shit happens.

Last week I was backpacking in Central Oregon, trying to get away from work, cell service, people in general, and the impending doom of a record heatwave hitting most of the Pacific Northwest.

My partner and I planned for three nights in the woods with Remmy, taking our time over about 25 miles with plenty of time to stop for photos. The only tough elevation gain would be the first day but we’d be fresh, we’d get it out of the way, and we’d get some great views along the way.

Here’s the thing… neither one of us slept well and the sun at 6,000 feet, though not as hot as in the city, was so intense that we were nearing exhaustion about seven miles in.

And then, I fell.

We started heading down a steep section of the trail and we were taking it slow and trying to carefully pick our way to the last uphill section of the day. I put my right foot on what I thought was a solid piece of the trail but as I shifted my weight to that leg, my foot slipped. My right leg continued to slide down the hill causing my left knee to slam into a sharp rock.

I’ll spare you the pictures and real gory details but, suffice it to say, my knee was split open pretty bad. I sat down on the trail, my back against the hill I just slid down, and watched blood trickle down my shin.

My partner, having been through several crises with parents and family members, immediately put pressure on it and calmly tried to figure out a more sustainable way to stop the bleeding.

She found some gauze and rigged a tourniquet and the bleeding stopped.

Now the conversation turned to what do we do next?

Having seen the cut and knowing how bad it was bleeding, I knew the right answer.

But my pride wanted me to tape it up, grab some Advil, slug some water, and walk back to the trailhead.

Then I tried to shift my weight by bending my knee a little and the cut started bleeding.

Yeah, I said, call 911.

Search and Rescue showed up a couple hours later, my partner making sure I wasn’t going into shock and keeping Remmy calm all the while. She’s pretty good in an emergency (the SAR guys all said so when they showed up).

They loaded me onto the helicopter and flew me to the hospital while my partner and Remmy hiked back with the rest of the SAR crew.

Luckily, I got a few bangers before they took me away— although I wish they would’ve let me take my camera on the helicopter because we took off right as the sun was setting.

In the end, I had a minuscule tear in one of my tendons but was otherwise fine. Eleven stitches and some pain killers later, I was released and we headed back home. The most damage done was to my pride. It was the first hike of the season, I underestimated the trail, and overestimated my abilities. I also feel bad for Remmy and my partner who didn’t get to have a fun weekend and had to hike out in the dark after being completely exhausted from the walk in.

Everything will heal and I’ll be back on the trail soon enough.

Keep your feet moving

Busy... Again

There are so many cliches running through my head.

“What a whirlwind.”

“Time has gotten away from me.”

“What do you mean I haven’t talked to you in ten years?”

There’s very few of these that can accurately describe the confluence of events that has created the exhaustion I sometimes feel.

It’s one of those indescribable feelings that everyone just sort of understands and, for the most part, feels.

It hasn’t busy in a bad way, for me, thankfully.

I was able to get on the field during the Portland Pickles baseball game last week, I set up a photo shoot for the middle of July, I’ve had some tattoo work done, and I’m still working full time for a company I enjoy.

That said, the pace has been high.

So, like the dummy I am, I’m going to increase the pace a little bit.

I miss writing.

There’s something about it that gives me a sense of accomplishment when I actually sit down and write a few paragraphs. It’s harder, for me, to write than it is to take photos.

In part, it’s because I’m harder on myself when it comes to writing. I HAVE to make each piece the best thing I’ve written so far. With photography, I WANT to make each shot the best I’ve taken so far.

It’s a subtle difference but it’s enough that writing drains me in a way that photography doesn’t. I get excited about photo shoots and procrastinate when it comes to writing.

That said, I’m going to commit to writing more often. For now it’ll be once or twice a week.

I’ll have some stories about photoshoots or things I’ve learned about photography, myself, and life in general.

Writing through the lens of photography (no pun intended), will give me a little bit more focus (I swear, I’m not doing this on purpose) in what I write about.

I hope you’ll join me as I figure things out as a photographer and as a person.

For those of you that have stuck around and been waiting for me to do this more often, thanks for sticking around and I apologize for taking so long to do it.

You’re all great people.

Keep your feet moving

Curiosity

In the span of a couple weeks, I had three separate conversations that were seemingly unrelated and disjointed.

The first person asked where I find inspiration for my photos and the second said they liked how my portfolio was diverse in subject.

A week before this, my father told me I reminded him of George Plimpton, a journalist known for his diverse subject matter. “You just kind of do a lot of different things and have a way of describing them that feels real,” he said, “land sailing, thru hiking, traveling, MMA, working for Congress, comedy, none of which are related but you photograph or write about it in an intriguing way.”

I’m not a huge believer in coincidence and, as Ted Lasso would say, “the thing about coincidences: sometimes they just happen.”

Regardless, they all got me thinking— not just about Ted Lasso although it is a great show and everyone should check it out.

They got me thinking about the root of where my photography/writing/ personality: curiosity.

Now I’ll be the first to tell you, my curiosity gets me in trouble far more often than I’m willing to admit. “Curiosity killed the goat” may be written on my headstone when it’s all over. If my obituary reads anything other than, “Who The Hell Would [insert seemingly dumb activity]” I will be very disappointed in the afterlife.

My curiosity has led to a lot of projects that have fallen through the cracks, a lot of purchased gear that is now collecting dust in the garage, and more than a few dates cancelled because I got distracted flying down some rabbit hole.

It can be frustrating when I think about the “purpose” behind my photos or the point I’m trying to make with the things I shoot. I often find myself asking, “yeah, that’s cool but who cares?”

But to quote Ted Lasso— seriously, check it out… I cannot oversell how great that show is— who was quoting Walt Whitman, “be curious, not judgmental.”

If there’s a quote that better exemplifies the reason my photos look the way they do, or how I pick the subjects I pick, or why I write about the things I write about, I haven’t seen it.

It’s odd, I almost feel embarrassed for being curious, like it’s some sort of defect in my personality that I like so many different things or am interested in unrelated topics. It makes me sound like I don’t have my life figured out yet and am just kind of wandering from one curiosity to the next.

Then again, maybe that’s the point of my work: to show people things that are interesting. It could be that the point of my work is there is no point to it. If it brings you a moment of joy/ surprise/ wonderment/stupefaction, then maybe that’s the only point I need to make.

Keep your feet moving

Aspirations

I've never really been one for resolutions or goals during the New Year season— in fact I've often found them cheesy and unnecessary. Why wait until a specific day to start improving and growing?

But after a year floating around trying to figure out where I am and what I want to do, I figured this is as good a time as any to codify the goals that have been bouncing around.

More Intentional

One of the things I've always loved about photography is that you can just go for a walk with your camera and, if you're looking hard enough, you can find something to shoot and make the light and environment work.

It's fun doing that but for me I've relied too heavily on it and honestly, it gets boring and creatively stagnant.

Granted there's a difference between going on a backpacking trip and just taking random shots as I walk down the trail and sitting on the couch, looking around the room, finding something to shoot, and then playing around with the shots in Lightroom. For me it's lazy.

Anyway, my whole point is to take good pictures on purpose, to see the shot, set up the shot, and take the shot the way I want. If I end up getting something better then so be it as long as I get the shot I wanted, the way I wanted it.

To help, I've started a photo journal of all my photo shoots. Jotting down the technical aspects, the perspectives, the improvements and thoughts I should use for the next shoot, and just the feeling of the shoot itself should help me improve.

This also means pushing outside my comfort zone a little and involving other people in the process. It means asking more friends if they'll model for me (more on that later), it means finding businesses willing to work with me (more on that later as well), going to places I wouldn't normally go, or finding subjects I wouldn't normally focus on.

Portraits

I've touched on this a little in a previous post but I've always been shy. I don't really like interacting with people I don't know, I've always kept a pretty small circle of close friends, "flirting" usually involved awkward comments followed by an uncomfortable giggle.

Now contrast that with wanting to get better at portraits.

I think everyone reading this now understands why I'm much better at landscapes.

It's not just about the photos themselves though.

2020 was, arguably, one of the worst collective years that I can think of. A lot of us quarantined, a lot of us stayed away from face to face social interactions, and a lot of us were left to listen to our own thoughts.

If anyone else is even a little bit like me, they've had to deal with some of their inner demons. John Mulaney going back to rehab after almost a decade sober is a metaphor for the rest of us (though maybe not to the same extent).

I want the portraits I take to make people feel good being photographed, want them to feel good about themselves, in a sense remove some of those insecurities they might have.

I want people to feel human again and to feel great about who they are as a person.

Drone Shots

Here is where the learning curve gets very steep.

Drones are, in some ways, easier in terms of photos: you find the shot you want, you can see how it's going to turn out on the screen, and there's never a chance your horizon line will be uneven.

The difficult part comes in video footage. Getting it isn't the hardest, although timing can be difficult depending on what you're shooting.

It's editing the footage afterwards that's both time consuming, tedious, and difficult. Especially for someone who has never edited video. I've never even captured a whole lot of video other than on my cell phone.

I'll also have to get a commercial drone pilot's license which is also very time consuming but necessary according to the FAA.

However, the benefits, will far outweigh the pain in the ass it'll take to become proficient.

Real estate agents, electrical companies, tree service companies, small businesses are all looking for different footage and photos to promote their brands or sell their products.

In theory, the drone work would probably pay most of the bills I rack up from doing regular photography (particularly those long backpacking trips in the mountains).

Magic

Ok, this one seems a little bit... fanciful.

I recently watched a Masterclass put on by Penn and Teller (Teller speaks, it's really weird) and remembered my love of card tricks.

Since I have a niece and a nephew, the latter of whom is starting to understand more than just "food", "cry", and "sleep" so I figured it's a good time to learn some tricks to perform for the both of them. It's more of a "hobby goal" or a "read more" goal.

It's less a self-improvement goal and more of a fun thing to do with the family. I've already ordered a couple books and will likely be rewatching the Penn and Teller Masterclass.

All Year

It's going to be a long year; with vaccines being delayed, lockdowns still in effect for a lot of the country, and political drama that doesn't look like it's going away soon.

So really, I hope this site, my social media platforms, and any prints or calendars you might buy provide some sense of escape or relief from the realities of the world. I hope it gives you a sense of calm or inspires you in some way.

It's going to be a long year but I'll be here for all of it.

Keep your feet moving

If you’d like to support my work, subscribe to my Patreon

Week Three: Busy, Busy, Busy

It’s been a week.

It hasn’t been a week of bad stress, anxiety, or a generally terrible week.

But it’s been a week nonetheless.

Last week I hinted that there was potential for good news and that potential came to fruition.

While I was still living in DC I was fortunate enough to participate in the Armed Services Arts Partnership’s Comedy Boot Camp which gave me the kick in the ass I needed to try stand-up comedy.

I loved every second of it.

To be funny is one thing; to be funny on purpose is a completely different cricket match.

It wasn’t just the new skill I was learning or the response I received from some of my jokes, it was the community ASAP had built.

That community was one of the most supportive I’ve been a part of.

This week marked one year since I got on stage at the DC Improv and made a room full of people laugh. Now, I’ve never tried cocaine but if it’s anything like getting an applause break from a joke, I understand its appeal.

Anyway, my graduation show was the last for the founder and then-head of ASAP, Sam Pressler. Apparently building and running a successful non-profit can really take a lot out of you and at some point you just need a long vacation.

With his vacation finished, Sam apparently got restless and decided he wanted to start a podcast. You know, the thing sane people like to do.

Long story short, I’m the new Communications Director for the In Stitches podcast.

It wasn’t so much that it’s a podcast or that Sam is a cool guy— I mean, he has a flip phone so how cool could he be— it was the idea of the podcast: finding the connection between humor and coping/dealing with life.

Essentially, the podcast is about finding the common humanity in humor.

I’ve always said some people collect stamps, some collect coins, I collect stories.

The funny stories are my favorite.

So if you like stories and you like funny people and you have forty-ish minutes every couple of weeks, give the podcast a listen and follow it on Instagram, Twitter, and/or Facebook— even if you don’t like any of those things, you should follow it so I can brag to everyone involved in the podcast once it gets popular.

On top of the podcast, I got a new camera and I absolutely love it.

For the past six years I’ve been using a Canon Rebel T3 and, while it was reliable and worked well, it was time for an upgrade. I bought a Canon 7D Mark II which is like going from a Camry to a Camaro. It just has so much more depth and character to it.

In terms of photos, I kind of became addicted to flat lay shots. There’s just so much you can do and such a great story you can tell with a handful of images and a simple set up. This style really combines well with my storytelling style brain.

So buckle in, because there are about to be a lot of flat lay photos on your collective social medias (as we speak I’m planning about ten different ideas for the coming weeks).

All this on top of wrestling trees into wood chippers— I’m not bragging; just helping to explain the title.

Finally, with no context or explanation, take Bob Barker’s advice and get your pet spayed or neutered and don’t wait too long to do so….

Keep Your Feet Moving

Frames this Week: 1, 179

Total Frames: 2, 430

Day 15- May 10

While I was searching for props for the previous day’s shots, I noticed an old, heavy sewing machine amongst a bunch of boxes. Naturally, I decided it would be fun a flat lay for something old and, most likely, not in production anymore.

My mother is a big quilting fan so I borrowed a bunch of her stuff and played around with a few different shots.

It really is like a puzzle that only you can see and solve.

Filling spots that look empty with something, deciding that doesn’t work there and moving it but then having to replace it with something else, etc. It’s structure and flow out of chaos and ambiguity.

It didn’t turn out quite the way I wanted but I wasn’t really sure how to fix it and fill in the gaps I thought I saw.

Eventually I’ll get it down and understand just how to make everything flow just a little bit better.

Day 16- May 11

Surprise! Another flat lay.

I really like the brand of beard care products (wow, that sounds really douchey) I buy and thought it might be fun to throw in all the stuff I have for my beard hygiene (that sounds worse).

I decided to go simpler on this shot because I felt the sewing machine was a little too busy and there were too many small things getting lost in the shot.

It might have been a bit of an overcorrection but overall I was happy with the way this shot turned out.

I’m also going to be a brand ambassador for them so be prepared for more flat lays with their products.

Day 17- May 12

This day was all about Remmy.

Her new collar and leash from Pack Leashes came in and, since she’s now a brand ambassador (GOAT20 for 20% off) for them, figured I should probably hold up her end of the bargain and actually get some shots in her new swag.

Two things: she doesn’t like sitting still and she’s faster than most Auto Focus servos I have. Might have to get a different lens for doing shoots with her.

Or she could just sit still for like two seconds… that would be nice.

She’s cute though.

Day 18- May 13

I’m a big fan of bourbon and a big fan of Larceny in particular. One of my previous shots captured at Heaven Hill’s Distillery (where Larceny is made and bottled) was taken in one of their rick houses after the tour group I was with had been locked in. I was personally not too upset to be locked in with tens of thousands of barrels of bourbon but apparently it was a “safety concern”.

Anyway, I played around with the theme already on the bottle with some old looking keys and a glass of the good stuff.

I’d like to say the background I used was from an actual barrel of bourbon that had been cut up but alas, it was simply a cutting board with a cool looking wood grain.

Since it’s a prop, the bottle should be tax deductible… right?

Day 19- May 14

The day I got my new camera.

I didn’t really know what to shoot and I spent a lot of time playing around with the mechanisms and settings on my new camera.

Then I thought, I might as well show people what I’ve been working with for the past half-decade.

The T3 will still be my climbing camera for sweet arborist and rock climbing shots but the majority of my remaining photos will be taken with the 7D.

Day 20- May 15

The governor decided to have a restricted reopening on Friday and I got off work early which meant it was time to go for a drive.

Due to the reopening, Barn Door Brewing was open and serving pints. It had been way too long since I ordered and enjoyed a pint (or two) at a brewery I've never been to.

It was so refreshing albeit a little anxiety-inducing.

In the back of the brewery there was an old International flat bed that had been converted to a smoker or small, mobile kitchen of some sort.

It looked like it was in great shape and still runs so I figured why not capture what made it such a beautiful work horse in the first place.

Day 21- May 16

This was honestly my best day of shooting.

Early in the week I thought about what I could shoot in the flat lay style and it hit me (after way too much time), why not take pictures of the gear and equipment I’m around everyday.

I went into work ON MY DAY OFF and spent at least an hour playing with different set ups of chain saws, climbing gear, ropes, different tools, and all the things arborists and tree services use on a day-to-day basis.

My goal for the shoot was to get a shot that my boss would want to hang at his house or in the shop. Something subtle and simple but representative of his passion and career.

He loved two of the shots I sent him.

Challenge complete.

Week Two: Creative Boredom

Creatively, it was a bit of a tough week.

The days are getting longer and warmer which means the light is a little bit harsher for a little bit longer. That’s normally not a huge issue as I can either focus on smaller, less light-intensive subjects or go inside and figure out my relatively new flash.

This week, I ran into a wall.

Wrestling tree limbs is always physically demanding but when the weather gets better and the temperature starts rising, it plays a little different on your system.

For me, my dumb ass is terrible at remembering to drink water and I’d often get home and feel like laying on the floor until it was time to go to work the next day. To put it mildly, my energy was a bit low this week.

Normally when my energy is low, there’s two types of shots that are generally pretty easy and are crowd-pleasers: macros of flowers and portraits of Remmy.

Here’s the thing, the whole point of me shooting everyday is to push myself and try to improve my craft. “Easy” should make me want to turn my nose in disgust— which it did a couple times— and I was tired of taking macros of flowers.

In a sense, I was creatively bored with some of the shots I was taking. There wasn’t a whole lot of inspiration or out-of-the-box thinking that accompanied the shots I had time and energy to take.

Most days I was able to drag my ass somewhere and try something different or find a new location but there were a couple days where I phoned it in, hated every shot I took, and then bitched about it to a few of my friends.

On the flip side, I had a few high-energy days where I drove around for two hours looking for the “perfect” shot only to come up short or get a shot I felt was subpar. Essentially it was a week filled with frustration and a little self-doubt.

Obviously, I’m still pushing on and continuing to shoot everyday— you don’t get better without working through the shitty days. It’s also part of the point in this entire project: proving to myself I CAN take decent photos everyday if I just get off my ass and do it.

Still, there are days when my mind wanders and looks for the easy route, the one that takes less time and meets the minimum requirements. I have to tell myself that it’s okay not be “on” everyday and sometimes I just need to do it, get it done, and move on.

I almost never believe myself and don’t particularly love the shots I take on those days but, in time, I’ll be a little easier on myself.

In other but related news, I ordered a new camera. I’ve had my current camera for almost six years and it’s been great and I’ll continue to use it for certain things but I figured it’s time to upgrade if I’m going to take this seriously.

It gets here Thursday and I can’t wait to try it out.

There may also be some good news in the next couple of weeks so things are looking up.

The boredom I’ve been experiencing this week just reminds me that I need to push myself and continue to grow.

Really it’s the only thing any of us can do if we want to keep our sanity.

Keep Your Feet Moving

Frames This Week: 676

Total Frames: 1,251

Day 8- May 3

It was my Dad’s birthday and instead of kicking back and relaxing, he helped the neighbors build a fence… you know, like normal people do.

It rained off and on all weekend but it poured particularly hard on Sunday. I was still chasing the elusive raindrop shot but also wanted to capture the essence of my Dad. The shot I ended up getting did one and a half of those things.

I managed to capture him working outside— something he always did when I was a kid— and almost got a raindrop or two. You can at least tell it’s raining and there’s a few drops in the background.

My Dad turned 63 but he still works like he’s 23.

Day 9- May 4

This was the day my boredom started.

I took Remmy on a longer walk, hoping I could find something to shoot, something interesting and out of the norm. Maybe some horses on the border of a suburban area or a tractor plowing a field or something that I didn’t normally see when I pulled out my camera.

Unfortunately, I didn’t find what I was looking for.

The horses were in some trees where I couldn’t get a good angle, the farmers were too far away to see or not out, and the rain was back.

So, it was flowers.

I tried to get some flowers with bees on them but every time a bee came near the flowers, Remmy would try to eat them and they’d fly away.

Spring is nice in that there are so many flowers in bloom right now, it’s difficult not to find one that could be potentially interesting for a macro shot.

But they’re relatively easy to shoot and there’s only so many angles on a Cala Lilly and all of them look phallic in some way so I wasn’t the most enthusiastic about these shots.

Day 10- May 5

Since the weather was nice and there was decent cloud cover (65%, which is far better than 17%) I figured I might as well find a good sunset shot.

There’s a pond not far from me that— I thought— wouldn’t be crowded with people and I could get a decent shot without worrying about being around people.

I thought wrong.

I expected an empty or near-empty parking lot but as I pulled up, it was clear people weren’t taking the stay-at-home order seriously. Not that I had any room to judge.

Remmy isn’t a huge fan of loud people either so we walked around the pond a bit and found a nice spot to settle it. She got a little curious when a beaver (I think) slipped into the pond and swan to the other side. Had my camera not already been mounted on the tripod, I would’ve snapped a couple photos but alas it’s an image only for me.

Day 11- May 6

I managed to bang out a lot of frames on this particular day.

After work I went for a drive around the some of the farm communities and snapped a few shots of some clover fields and a trio of horses. They weren’t my favorite shots in the world— the horses were too close to a house and I couldn’t get close enough to keep the fence out of the frame— but I found a few other potential spots for sunsets or sunrises in the future so I figured it was a success.

Having finished, I drove back to town to run an errand and on the way back, the main street in front of me had been closed down by local police and fire departments.

A kitchen fire on the second floor of the newest apartment complex drew fire crews from three different stations and closed down the main strip for three blocks.

Obviously, I grabbed my camera and started shooting.

I was able to grab a few action shots of firefighters grabbing equipment from their trucks or popping out on the apartment’s balcony to direct the other crews.

Unfortunately, the sun was still high and very harsh so many of the shots were high in contrast and made some of the plants and trees look fake. I tried to get a shot of a concerned-looking Corgi but he kept moving his head anytime I’d click the shutter… he’s still a good boi.

Day 12- May 7

This was, by far, my most frustrating day.

As I was driving back from that day’s job (it was my turn to drive the stump grinder to the shop) I saw Mt. Hood in my rear view mirror. It’s been a while since I tried to get a shot of the mountain and longer since I’d seen it that clear.

After I dropped off the trailer and tested out my new harness in the cedar behind the shop, I drove around looking for a good spot… for two fucking hours.

I noticed a gravel road with a couple farms from one of the back roads I was on and pulled onto it. I noticed some bee hives in the corner and thought I could take some shots of that after I’d gotten the one I stopped for in the first place.

I fired a few frames of Hood with clover in the foreground and played around with different looks. After I was satisfied with those, I took a few of the hives themselves and then returned my attention to the mountain just in case I didn’t get the shot I wanted— which I’m glad I did.

When I uploaded everything to my computer it looked like my lens had ALL the dust spots on it based on the shots I was looking at. I grabbed my camera and looked at my lens filter. There were a few small spots here and there but there wasn’t anything that would warrant my photos looking the way they did.

Then I remembered: the bees.

Every shot saw bees streaking across the frame in the sky line and almost ruining the shot. There were too many bees not to notice and not enough to make it look like I’d shot them on purpose to show their movement so I spent probably forty-five minutes in Lightroom getting rid of all the streaks.

They didn’t turn out too bad and I managed to get some good shots of the hives themselves. Despite my frustrations I managed to get some good frames and work with what I had. I might go back to that spot and try to show just how much the bees move.

Day 13- May 8

I forgot to drink water the day before and woke up with a headache and almost no energy.

Work was a bit of a drag only because it was too hot by 9AM, I still didn’t feel like myself, and I knew I would have very little energy for photos later in the day.

Once I got home I tried to fight through the lack of energy, do something simple but meaningful and failed in every shot.

I tried taking some photos of some older looking books but, after looking at them on the computer, was unimpressed.

I laid on the floor in the exact spot the AC hits you from all directions and thought. At some point my hat fell off and I noticed the sweat lines and dirt on the brim.

I grabbed my camera and fired off a few macros, trying to get the contrasting colors of the fabric untouched by sweat and the grungy, dirty fabric that had.

In some ways, the shot was an homage to everyone who knows the feeling of breaking in a new hat and knowing that it takes several months of sweat and dirt to get it just right.

I definitely half-assed the planning of this shot though considering how little energy I had and how few fucks I gave, it turned out to be a pretty decent shot.

Day 14- May 9

Determined not to have another day of uninspired shooting, I woke a little earlier than I thought (thanks, Remmy) and sipped on my coffee while I scrolled through Instagram and Twitter.

Finding nothing there, I perused some photography videos on YouTube and figured out the day’s shoot: flat lay photography.

Typically used for product and commercial shots, I figured I had enough stuff around to make a decent flat lay.

I looked at my work boots and noticed all the scuffs and oil/gas stains on the toe and built my idea around the idea of well-used but reliable tools and equipment.

It could just be a stereotype but when I think of blue collar workers I think of cigarettes and smoking so I decided to get a pack of smokes and a lighter. But to take it a step further to capture the “old-timey” feel of the shot I got a soft pack of cigarettes and a Zippo lighter. In some ways it turned into a 1980’s blue collar worker shot.

I found the one place with a plain Zippo lighter (Walmart) and bought it and the cigarettes.

But the lighter looked too new— I know, weird, right?

So I did what any normal and sane person would do: I beat the shit out of it until it looked like it had been at least a little worn in.

The shot was a lot more time-consuming than I thought. It was like getting a 1,000 piece puzzle while thinking, “I’m an adult, I should be able to do this in no-time” which always costs four days worth of free time, a perfectly good friendship, and a very large portion of your sanity.

That said, it was one of the most fun shoots I’ve done since starting this project. Every little detail mattered and could dramatically change the feeling of the shot. Whether it was the angle of the pack of cigarettes or whether the lighter was opened or closed, the story the photo told somehow changed— and yes I’m well aware I should’ve wrinkled the cigarette pack a little.

Going through the raw shots after I’d gotten done was a lot of fun and I’ll definitely be doing a lot more of these types of shots going forward.

Challenges

I'm not sure when or why but I felt I was creatively lacking a few weeks ago.

My writing felt flat, my photos were few and far between, and the prospect of writing new jokes was overwhelming and burdensome.

I came up with a lot of ideas, articles and stories I should write, interesting photos to shoot, a few premises with legs. But the ideas just went into my notebook or in my phone and I left them there to marinate, hoping they'd somehow produce themselves.

It was a full-blown creative rut.

I made the age-old excuses: "I'm busy with my full-time job", "I just don't have the energy", "if it were actually a good idea, I'd be throwing myself into it", and, the classic, "I'll do it later".

I don't think there's a writer/photographer/ comic/ creative in the world that hasn't gone through this-- at least that's what I tell myself to keep from spiraling too much-- but the good ones, the ones that keep going and actually make careers out of their art forms, are the ones that recognize they're in a rut and try to do something about it.

So, about a week ago, I was sitting on the couch, watching a cooking show or a climbing documentary or something, and decided to challenge myself.

I decided to produce at least one photo everyday.

It won't necessarily fix everything, my writing may still be flat and my jokes may still land like the Hindenburg, but at least I'll be putting myself into a creative headspace everyday.

I can't remember which writer's memoir I read-- could've been Stephen King or Mark Twain or any of the other random authors-- but in it they said the key to inspiration and creativity is the routine of placing yourself into that creative mindset. Inspiration and creativity is essentially a muscle that needs to be exercised every day in order to get better and build more creativity and inspiration.

In a way, I'm challenging myself and this idea that the more often you're creative, the more likely you are to be inspired.

Over the seven days, I fired off 575 frames and produced at least seven decent photos. They weren't all, as Peter McKinnon calls them, "bangers" but I worked through the lack of energy, time, or inspiration.

If nothing else, the daily challenge will give me something to write about. Whether it's my frustrations with the process or the pride when I find a shot and nail it.

To keep myself accountable, I'm posting the pictures on Twitter everyday (you can follow along here) and trying to post daily on Instagram.

This will be another platform with which I can keep myself accountable.

So enjoy the photos but call me on my bullshit when I half-ass a photo or complain about being too busy. We're all too busy but we all should prioritize the things that bring us happiness and peace.

Keep Your Feet Moving

Frames This Week: 575

Total Frames: 575

Day 1- April 26

I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to shoot, didn’t even have the slightest idea of what types of photos I wanted to get.

But it was a nice day and Remmy always likes going on walks so I grabbed her leash, a roll of poop bags, and my camera.

Oregon didn’t have a particularly harsh winter so some of the flowers started to bloom early and a lot of them have been in full bloom for the better part of a month.

Remmy and I walked around the neighborhood and I shot some of the prettier flowers while she sniffed everything in a six foot radius. We found a small grassy area with a giant oak tree. Remmy managed to sit still long enough for me to snap a few frames.

On the way home I found a batch of white tulips and picked one and put it in Remmy’s collar. She tolerated my shenanigans for a little bit and then we played fetch.

One of the last shots I took was her taking a break and giving her best puppy smile.

The portraits of her landed her a job as a brand ambassador for Pack Leashes so if you’re in the market for a new leash or collar you can use GOAT20 to get 20% off on their site.

All in all, it wasn’t a bad first day.

But first days are rarely that bad.

Day 2- April 27

Monday was a rough day.

Next to Tuesdays, Mondays are the worst day of the week.

After wrestling tree limbs for eight hours, my energy level was pretty close to zero. All I wanted to do was enjoy a bourbon or two, eat dinner, and just relax.

I knew if I didn’t grab my camera before I ate, I wouldn’t end up shooting anything, I looked for something small around the house.

The tulip I’d used in Remmy’s collar the day before was on the counter in a glass of water.

A friend of mine, and fellow photographer, told me about wanting to take better macros and how he did his best without a proper flash. Having just gotten a new flash, I decided to test it out.

It was fun trying to find the best angle with the right settings on the flash and really bringing out the detail of the now-dying flower. The lack of energy I’d felt before I started shooting went away as soon as that first frame was fired off.

That may have been the most important day of the week. It would’ve been easy to just say “fuck it” and not taken any photos. I mean, it was only the second day and I hadn’t really invested anything into the project and only a handful of people knew what I was trying to do.

But I pushed through and got what I think are some pretty great shots.

Day 3- April 28

This was probably the easiest day of the week. I realized a while ago that if I didn’t bring my camera to work, there would inevitably be a shot that I wished I could’ve gotten with my actual camera rather than settling for my phone.

We were doing a drop and leave of some very large and very dead Poplars on a guy’s property meaning we were just cutting them down and leaving the remains for the home owner to deal with.

Near the end of the day, after three of the four or five trees had been felled, I grabbed my camera and started shooting.

As I was shooting, my boss cut a limb that slipped and started to fall out of his reach. Somehow, he managed to grab the limb before it crashed into the roof— which was the point of our removing the trees in the first place.

The only thing I don’t like about the shot is that you can only sort of see the climber in the shot but that’s kind of the price you pay for getting shots of really, really, ridiculously tall trees.

Day 4- April 29

At this point I was feeling pretty good with the shots I’d gotten so I decided to add an extra layer of creativity.

After taking a handful of shots of my post-work bourbon and not being completely satisfied— although they turned out better than I thought— I borrowed some Disney stuffed animals and tried to take a series that I found hilarious (though my niece would probably cry if she saw them.

I’m not a fan of Frozen.

So I made a scene where Mickey was annoyed with the Frozen franchise and decided to contract Goofy and Mater to take out one of the most popular characters from said franchise.

The lighting and the backdrop definitely need some work but I was working with what I had at the time. The resulting photos aren’t exactly what I envisioned and are no where near perfect but the objective of a funny series was mostly realized.

And before you ask, there is a lot wrong with my sense of humor and yes I’m okay with it.

Day 5- April 30

One of the cool things about wrestling trees is getting to see so many different parts of the area that I’m unfamiliar with or haven’t really taken the time to look at.

On the way back from a job a couple months ago I noticed a barn along the side of a north-south road. I’m a sucker for trying to get good sunset photos and an even bigger sucker for older, somewhat worn down barns. This barn seemed to satisfy both of my vices.

I was a bit upset to have to do this particular shot on a weeknight when I had to be up for work the next day, especially since the days are getting longer and the sunset is getting even later but it was one of the last evenings for the week that was supposed to be clear.

In December I drove three hours to a light house to try to get a sunset shot there but there was too much cloud cover and I couldn’t see more than a few hundred meters in front of me and there wouldn’t be much of a sunset. The forecast for that day was at 85%.

On this particular day, the forecast called for 17% or basically one cloud.

Most good sunset photos have a decent set of clouds in them and those clouds are often why you get the deep red and orange sunsets that make you want to grab an expensive bottle of wine and just sit.

This was not one of those sunsets.

So I learned that 85% cloud cover is too much and 17% is not nearly enough. Like Goldielocks I’m still searching for the cover that’s “juuuuust right”.

Day 6- May 1

This was a bit of a tough day in terms of having time to get good shots. Most of the day, I’d been going over my set for a virtual comedy show and hadn’t really let myself think about what sort of shots I wanted to get.

After stressing out about my set and then doing the show, I was emotionally pretty wiped.

So I tried to give a bit of an inside glimpse into the mind of a comedian by showing my set list and my “anti-anxiety medication”.

It was a good set and I had a lot of fun doing it.

Day 7- May 2

I don’t remember the photographer but they were really good at showing rain and snowfall in their photos and since it rained most of the day, I attempted to capture rain as it fell.

During the one snowfall this winter, I tried to capture the flakes in a cityscape but was mostly unsuccessful. A different photographer friend suggested using a flash— after I had already started editing and the snow had stopped.

Not to be thwarted I took my new flash out and tried, once again, to capture the rain.

Most of the shots where individual rain drops were visible didn’t really blow my skirt up in terms of composition and intrigue.

So I focused on drops that had already fallen which gave a nice contrast in feel to the flower photos I’d taken earlier in the week.

Hope

I remember sitting in my room on May 2, 2011, talking to my parents during our weekly phone conversations.

I was three weeks away from graduation, three months from starting Basic Officer's Leadership Course, and three years from my first and, luckily, only deployment.

It had been a boring weekend: studying for finals, making final preparations for the summer, a few beers with friends, nothing unusual or noteworthy.

It was around 11 PM in New York, a light breeze was blowing through the halls cooling what had been a warm but not sweltering day.

My parents were talking about their flight into Newark, where they were staying in Highland Falls, which car they'd rented, and how excited they were to be at graduation. We went over when and where the commissioning ceremony was going to be, who'd be invited, what they should bring, what they should wear, all the things parents like to talk about when they're trying to hide their excitement.

As I was explaining when and where I would meet them after the ceremony was over, an email hit my inbox. I stopped mid-sentence to read it: "President to Make an Announcement on National Security Matter".

"Turn on the news," I told my parents, "the President is about to make an announcement."

I hung up the phone and listened as President Obama announced that Osama bin Laden had been killed.

A loud, continuous cheer could be heard all over campus. Videos of our celebrations hit Facebook almost instantly. A man who'd been "Enemy Number One" for almost half our lives was no longer a threat.

Naively, I thought the war in Afghanistan was over.

I assumed, with the leader of our enemies dead, we would bring everyone home, and that I'd missed my chance to contribute.

Three years later, I boarded a plane in Kuwait headed to Bagram Airfield. For six months I sat behind a desk, resourced missions, and planned the logistics for our flight back.

As our battalion left, a new one came to take our place.

Soon after, a different battalion replaced them.

The wheel kept spinning, service members kept dying, and no one could really say what we were doing there.

For two thirds of my life (my entire adult life), we've been fighting in Afghanistan, most of which was fought after bin Laden was killed. Every six months, generals and politicians would proclaim we'd turned a corner, that we were winning, and soon we could bring everyone home.

And for two thirds of my life, it was all bull shit.

But today, there's a glimmer of hope: the Taliban have signed a preliminary peace deal.

I'm hopeful, though not optimistic, that now we can finally start the process of leaving Afghanistan and start the healing process for so many who need it.

I'm hopeful that we'll stop seeing stories about service members killed in Afghanistan.

I'm hopeful that I won't lose anymore friends for nothing.

Maybe it’s naiveté.

Maybe this is all for show and nothing of substance or worth will come from it.

But I’m still hopeful.

Keep Your Feet Moving

Compliments

January felt like it was an entire year. 

Everyday it seemed, something new hit the newswires and we'd forget about everything that happened the day before. Impeachment, Iran, Caronavirus, Kobe-- everything just seemed to happen in the first thirty-one days of the new decade.

For me personally, busy sounds like a vacation.

Between two part-time jobs-- one of which is going away and the other is becoming full-time-- trying to break into the local photography game, writing stories that actually matter, and keeping up with what people call a "social life," it's a wonder I know that January is over.

But there are moments that make all the running around and stress worth every minute.

I had a meeting with a professional real estate photographer who was looking for some part-time photographers. Essentially, he wants some stock photos for local developers and apartment complexes for their marketing materials.

During the conversation he looked at some of my work and explained what he wanted in terms of shots, locations, etc. As we were starting to wrap up he said, "I think you have a great eye." He said some other stuff too but I clung to that particular statement.

I've heard friends and family say they enjoy my photos or they think I have some skill and talent with a camera but it's not very often I hear other professional photographers tell me they like my stuff. It's one of those validating statements that means a lot more coming from someone you respect. It's akin to Gary Gulman telling me he liked my set or Ray Bradbury (RIP) positively reviewing something I've written.

That was ONE of the best compliments I’ve received and made me feel ten feet tall and bulletproof.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the only one.

I love mucking stalls… okay, I love the ranch where I muck stalls, honestly, horses are pretty gross animals. I can't tell you how many times I've had to wash horse piss out of a grain bucket or giant horse turds out of a water trough. I've watched a horse take a dump in its hay, take a drink of water, and then eat the hay in which they just shat.

Anyway, since I started working there, I've chatted with a couple of the boarders and found out one of them has a small business making turkey calls. He, like me, is just starting out and getting himself established and monetizing what had been a hobby.

Seeing an opportunity to build my portfolio for commercial photographs, I offered to take some photos of his calls and some advertisement-style photos for his Facebook page. I was excited about the project as it gave me an opportunity to really dial in my pitch, figure out the mechanics of product photos, and it was something different.

Despite his objections, I told him I wouldn't charge him.

We did the shoot and I processed all the photos and determined which ones were the best and which ones needed to be reshot. I saved a couple to my phone so I could show him when I saw him at the ranch.

When I did show him, he seemed blown away and on the edge of tears.

His reaction was payment enough.

It's funny, I was watching a YouTube video about the "gift of photography." It's the emotional reactions, the ones that elicit a certain intended response that makes photography done well so much fun. It's why I prefer candids over posed portraits and raw moments over staged events, there's something emotionally vulnerable and empathetic no matter the subject.

It's reactions and compliments like these that make the long hours and busy weeks all worth the stress. Having to grind out the weeks while being physically and mentally exhausted are tempered by the small validations from those with whom we interact.

So here's to grinding out another busy month and making the grind worth it.

Keep Your Feet Moving

Moving... Without Moving

There’s a huge appeal to working for yourself and trying to make your own money, there’s a risk that makes it seem romantic in a lot of ways. Add to that the seductive nature of the road and traveling and you have yourself a Steinbeck or Kerouac novel on your hands.

What’s often forgotten— or in my case completely ignored because of hubris— is how hard it is to actually make money as a freelancer. Emailing pitches, writing articles and trying to get them published, practically begging people to buy your photos (or t-shirts, of which there are still plenty left), and just trying to get your name out there as a quality writer and photographer.

From August to November, I was living almost carefree, driving everywhere, interviewing people, writing stories on events, taking photos in national parks, participating in veteran-oriented programs to later write a story, and generally feeling like I could and would do that forever.

But then, the stories didn’t get published, the photos took longer to sell, and gas money started to run low.

I’m not complaining; I know that’s how the business works and that it takes a while to get established and editors are always leery of new writers with a relatively unproven record. Hell, if I were in their shoes, I’d send most pitches to the spam folder.

I guess, my hubris got the better of me. “I can make a living doing this, look at how great of a writer I am, look at the photos I take, look at the life I’m living. Everyone should want to read the stories I write.”

It’s been a humbling experience to be sure.

For now, I’m working part-time gigs cleaning stalls at a horse ranch, throwing trees into a chipper, and any other work I can find. I’m extremely appreciative of everyone who’s given me the opportunity to work for them.

In some ways, it’s been a blessing. I’ve had the opportunity to research new ways to continue doing what I love while making money at the same time, I’ve been able to spend more time with my niece and nephew, and I’ve been able to work with some truly generous people. Plus there’s something therapeutic about working outside and smelling like horse piss at the end of the day.

Recently, I’ve started reaching out to local business to see if they are in need of new photos for their website, offices, or dining areas, offered to help a couple people set up Instagram accounts to help grow their business a little and gain credibility within the community, and have essentially tried to start building a local reputation so I can expand as I get more established.

It’s definitely not going the way I planned—although when has life ever gone the way any of us planned— but I am still happy with my decision to break away from the normal 9-5 cubicle/desk jobs and do what I love for a living.

So even though I’m at somewhat of a stand still, I’m making the best of the situation and still chasing my dream and trying to make it work the best I can.

In the words of Jimmy Dugan from A League of Their Own, “it’s supposed to be hard. The hard is what makes it great.”

Don’t worry about me, I’ll figure it out.

Keep Your Feet Moving

As an aside, if you’re in the Oregon or Washington areas and are in need of some photos, feel free to shoot me a message.

Still Learning

It's been a busy month.

Somehow, I managed to log eight thousand miles in a little less than a month, traveling from Portland to Joshua Tree, Scottsdale, Santa Fe, Topeka, Missouri, Little Rock, back to Joshua Tree, Missoula and back to Portland.

I met some truly great and generous people along the way.

I also picked up a traveling companion named Remmy (short for Remington… because she always has shotgun). She's a 4-month old rescue from the Rescue Ranch in Yreka, CA and she couldn't have done any better in the truck. After a couple minutes of "really, this is what we're doing today" looks, she settles in and let's the vibrations of the truck carry her off to sleep.

In talking with some of the people I've met and interviewed, I found myself telling them, "she's still learning" whenever they asked how she's adjusting to life outside the rescue.

Having thought about it, we're both still learning.

I'm still learning how to be a better writer and photographer and she's still learning how to not shit on the carpet.

I'm still learning how to effectively use my time and money and she's still learning what "no" really means.

If I'm honest, if either one of us stop learning, that'll be the end of us.

The phrase "you can't teach an old dog new tricks" is an excuse. Maybe you just stopped teaching them new tricks and they got bored and apathetic… much like the rest of us who stop trying to learn something new.

If I'm not learning something, if I'm not actively trying to grow through knowledge and experience, then clearly I'm not paying attention. 

Whether it's dealing with an editor who's slow to reply to emails, bombing in front of a small crowd, or not getting a shot quite right, there's something I can learn each day as long as I look for something.

Once that stops happening, I'll probably stop what I'm doing and find something else.

Don't stop learning, don't stop growing.

Keep your feet moving

Sitting

It’s official everyone: the better, cooler weather is finally here.

As we speak, I’m sitting in front of a wood burning stove, listening to the New Mexico wind howl outside, while enjoying a hot cop of coffee.

It has been a busy couple of weeks and it doesn’t look like I’ll be any less busy in the next two or three.

The relaunch of my site has gone a lot better than I thought (thank you to those that purchased prints) and I’m finding myself more and more excited to take photos. Even if they aren’t any good or they don’t turn out the way I want, the process is what excites me the most. Figuring out a different angle, or trying a different lens, all of it, gives me a sense of creative accomplishment.

Last week I spent a few days on a story, following a Gulf War veteran as he ran his business, practiced yoga, and tried to figure out life after the military.

Being the type that likes to immerse myself in the story, I went with him to Bikram yoga.

For those unfamiliar, several years ago a few yoga instructors and practitioners became bored with the humdrum, typical yoga practice at a comfortable temperature. They decided what was missing was a sauna so they moved their practice into studios at temperatures above 100 degrees.

Now you could spend an hour stretching and meditating while sweating like you were in the middle of Death Valley in July.

That still wasn’t enough for some people.

One yogi, thinking about how to torture himself and his students, decided, “we should turn up the heat and do this for 90 minutes.”

And thus Bikram yoga was born.

Bikram, of course, is Hindi for “sadistic asshole” and gives practitioners a sense of survival once their session is over.

A few days later I drove to the Crossed Arrows Ranch in Santa Fe, NM where I’m participating in a horse therapy program for veterans (again for a story) and have thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.

I’ve seen a lot of sunsets in a lot of different places— India, New Zealand, Thailand, Montana, etc.— but the New Mexico sunset is definitely in my top three. The way the colors of the tired sun bounce off the crags are so vivid it’s almost like you’re on a different planet.

I was watching one of these sunsets a couple days ago when I remembered a thought I had about a year ago that wouldn’t go away.

We never just sit anymore.

The fall has typically been the time of year when musicians and bands release new albums or new singles. It’s almost hard to keep up with and listen to all the new music coming out.

But when was the last time you just sat and listened to a new album? Not as background music as you drive to work or do the dishes or workout at the gym. Just turned up the volume, sat in a chair, and soaked in the notes and the lyrics.

I’m willing to bet most of my generation hasn’t done that since we were kids, sitting in the back seat on a long road trip with a borrowed Discman. That used to be one of the only form of entertainment we had any control over. Older siblings or parents could take over the TV remote, the computer made those weird sounds while the internet took twenty minutes to boot up.

In the back seat though, the bulky headphones attached to the CD player so only you could hear, you controlled everything. You let the music surround you and let the lyrics consume you.

But now, there’s always a purpose to our music. We force it to have a function rather than just enjoying it for its own merits.

Maybe we’re all just getting older and busier or maybe technology has created an expectation that we don’t waste time just sitting (unless we’re watching Netflix). Maybe we don’t sit and watch the sunset anymore because we can just go on Instagram and see sunsets from around the world.

It seems that’s what a lot of us are craving with the popularity of meditation and mindfulness exercises: just a few minutes to sit and be with no distractions. Although, even that has been streamlined and made more efficient with “walking meditation” and mindfulness you can practice while driving.

Perhaps, it’s time we all find an album, turn up the volume, and just sit and listen.

Keep your feet moving

And I'm Back

It’s been over a year since I last published anything here.

Needless to say, a lot has happened.

A few of the highlights:

-I went from living with an ex-girlfriend to living by myself in an apartment smaller than a hotel room;

-I spent November and December moving Representatives from one office building to another;

-During the office moves, I decided DC wasn’t the place for me and my anxiety and so decided to write and live on the road full-time;

-I was sober for an entire month (never doing that again);

-I bought a truck and put my queen-size bed in the back #HomelessVet;

-I learned about a new sport called land sailing;

-I started doing stand-up comedy; and

-I redesigned and updated my website.

I’m going back to what this site was meant to be in the first place: a way for me to tell stories that are important. There won’t be any single direction or topic I’ll focus on. The only direction will be whatever path or trail I decide to take— literally and metaphorically.

I’m tired of focusing on the news and politics, though there may be some of that in the weeks and months to come.

Instead, I’m focusing on people and stories.

Not all will be happy and not many will be all that uplifting— but then, when is life constantly uplifting.

I can’t/won’t commit to publishing something every week but I will try my hardest to do so. Many of the places I plan to go are wanting for cell service and wifi coverage. Living in DC for two years taught me I’m meant to be on the road and away from the big cities. I’m choosing my mental stability over convenience and LTE.

Nevertheless, I’ll do what I can to keep my photos up to date, upload some videos of good sets at open mics, and give you a small glimpse at what’s rattling around in my brain.

There’s one update to the site that I’m particularly excited about: the shop.

If you’ve ever thought a photo I took would look good over the toilet in your guest bathroom or you need to pass a travel photo off as your own to seem “interesting”, now you can.

Or you can slap a #goatpath sticker on some unsuspecting bathroom stall door.

The photo sizes are pretty standard across the board but if you’re looking for something different, you can email me and I’ll quote you a price for it.

I’ll need the gas money so tell all your friends to take a look as well.

If you have any tips on good stories, a good open mic, or places that might have substantially better photo opportunities, drop me an email or shoot me a note on Twitter.

There’s nothing better than stories and I look forward to finding more.

Keep your feet moving

(Seriously, buy some photos. They’re pretty awesome.)

Tired

I hate going to memorials.

The first one I attended to honor a soldier was in the fall of 2007. The academic year was maybe two weeks old, the seniors had just gotten back from celebrating Ring weekend, and we had all formed up for recall formation.

After we were dismissed, our TAC officer gathered us all together and told us our company-mate's brother had been killed in Afghanistan.

Still new to even the idea of the military, most of the freshman-- myself included-- didn't fully understand, didn't fully grasp the concept of how that would affect those around us. I later learned the seniors were a very close-knit group and had spent a significant amount of time with the brothers.

Heads dropped.

Tears fell.
Pride swelled.

Later in the week, the memorial service was held at the cadet chapel. The entire company climbed the granite stair cases to the top of the hill, tried not to sweat too much, tried not to breathe to heavy.

We all shuffled in to the high-arched church, the granite floors and walls echoing the slightest whisper, the wooden pews creaking as we sat down, the pipes from the organ reflecting the sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows.

Silence.

On cue, the organ player started a hymn I couldn't recognize, prompting the priest to walk toward the apse. The family walked behind a flag-covered coffin, heads held high as tears streamed down their cheeks.

I don't remember the hymns we sang, the prayers that were recited, or the things that were said. I do remember the look on my company-mate's face as he walked with his arm around his now widowed sister-in-law.

I remember the look in her eyes, an odd mix of pain, sadness, doubt, and pride. In that look I was struck with a sense of sadness and foreboding. To that point, death in combat had only been a vague notion, something about which I was aware but something I had never experienced the effects first-hand.

I never went back to the chapel.

A few years later and a couple months from getting out of the Army, my supervisor sent me an email saying she needed to see me and my NCOs. She told us there'd been a death in the Battalion and we needed to inform the companies there would be a memorial service in the next couple of days. By this point I'd deployed, been to several more memorial services, seen countless faces of soldiers, marines, sailors, and airmen on TV, lost classmates.

Lost friends.

My first thought was, well, that's going to push back the training meeting and I won't be going home as early as I'd hoped that day. I started thinking of all the things I needed to do in order make the meeting happen and ensure that it would as efficient as possible.

I did what was needed to do my job, I sat through the service with half-attention at best, and exited as quickly and inconspicuously as my manners would allow. After the meeting, I drove home, drank beer, and watched Netflix until I fell asleep.

I felt nothing.

This past Memorial Day, I heard some rumors that the National Park Service was considering a memorial on the Mall for the Global War on Terror.

A memorial for the Global War on Terror? We're still fighting the Global War on Terror. It's been over 7,000 days since we first invaded Afghanistan; we've lost 6,954 service members. I realize that's a relatively small number when compared to the losses in Vietnam, Korea, the World Wars, etc. but we're still losing service members.

As odd as it sounds, talk of this memorial led me to think of John Kerry. The 2004 Presidential Election brought questions of his military record, his actions after he returned home from Vietnam, and his loyalty to the country.

As an avid Fox News viewer growing up, I thought Kerry a traitor or, at best, soft on national defense and security. I didn't trust him as a candidate, I was wary of him as Secretary of State, and, until a few months ago, I couldn't understand why he would testify before Congress to end the Vietnam War at a time when it would mean service members died in vain.

Now, I would've been sitting next to him.

We're still in Afghanistan, still losing service members, and lending credibility to the idea that history doesn't repeat itself but it does rhyme.

The question is: why?

Why are we still in Afghanistan?

Why is increasing air attacks the best way to win?

Why can't anyone at the Pentagon define victory?

Why are we still losing men and women in uniform?

These questions were the essence of Kerry's mission to end the Vietnam War.

I'm tired of going to memorials.

I'm tired of seeing them on TV.

I'm tired.

Keep your feet moving

Lip Service

Being an officer doesn't mean you're a leader.

It does mean you're responsible for those put in your charge and, ultimately, for your own actions and what your team produces.

But that doesn't mean you're a leader.

This past week I witnessed an officer charged with the lives of thousands of soldiers but whom, clearly, had forgotten how to be a leader.

Every spring, the soldiers stationed at Fort Meyers being a weekly ritual for the public called the Twilight Tattoo-- basically an hour long recruiting show for tourists and high-ranking officers. The show itself was exactly what you'd expect, honoring those soldiers who fought in previous wars, a plethora of "patriotic" songs, and loud booms from canon that startled and delighted all in attendance.

At one point between the singing of American Soldier and God Bless the USA, a group of about thirty seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds participated in an enlistment ceremony where they, for the first time, took the oath and committed the next several years of their young lives to service to their country.

I've raised my hand and said this oath five times-- once when I started college, a second time when I took my junior year commitment, "for real" when I commissioned, and every time I was promoted. I've heard the oath countless times at promotions, enlistments, reenlistments, and during various speeches about service, sacrifice, and leadership. I've had the privilege of conducted several reenlistments for enlisted soldiers.

The first time I saw and actual reenlistment ceremony, I was a young second lieutenant about two months out of officer basic course. I saw my commander in his office, staring at a piece of paper, occasionally looking away, mouthing words silently, and returning to the paper.

Curious, I knocked on his door and asked what he was doing.

I'm memorizing the oath for Sergeant Johnson's reenlistment, he said.

I thought for a moment, then said, why are you memorizing it? Can't you just take a note card up with you?

He slammed the paper on his desk, more annoyed than angry, and said, look, these guys are choosing to continue serving in the Army. They know the risks, they know they could be killed, they know that they are really giving up their youth and a little piece of their humanity for the country. The absolute least I can do is memorize the oath that commits them to doing that.

Coming from anyone else, I would have dismissed it as just another thing commanders are supposed to say or supposed to do. After getting to know him a little more and seeing how much he actually cared about his soldiers, how much he was able to connect with them through social interactions and putting hot sauce in their dip, I knew he was a leader and one I should aspire to mimic.

From then on, I judged the leadership abilities of my superiors based upon their willingness to memorize the oath and I still do.

Which is why I was frustrated and not a little pissed during the enlistment ceremony at the Twilight Tattoo. The Four-Star General giving the oath read from a note card.

Now, I understand he's a general and he's very busy and he doesn't have a lot of time for trivial things. But the oath is seventy-two words. He's had to say it countless times, presumably this wasn't his first enlistment or reenlistment ceremony. This particular ceremony has likely been on his schedule for weeks. There is only one excuse for his not memorizing the oath: he doesn't care about his soldiers.

During a few job interviews and talking with friends and family, I'm often asked why I decided to leave the Army.

This particular event is a symbol for the culture of the Army and the main reason I left: lip service.

Every initial counseling, every speech about "officership", every white paper about leadership invariably had the same mantra: we-- officers and leaders-- need to take care of our soldiers. We'd have long discussions over coffee or beer about how we need to do a better job of taking care of soldiers, battalion commanders would brag about how much they took care of soldiers and their families.

Take care of soldiers.

For me, this phrase became a cynical and sarcastic joke when a commander decided to worry more about their own career instead of helping a soldier or when the "needs of the Army" took precedent.

We talked so much and so often about taking care of soldiers but nothing in the actions of commanders did anything to actually take care of them. We continued business as usual, we covered our own ass and moved on to the next "high-priority" issue.

We talked about reducing suicide but worry about the cost of actually affecting change.

We talked about eliminating the stigma of mental health issues but minimized the struggles of those around us.

We talked about removing toxic leaders but promoted officers who "got results" at the expense of their own soldiers.

We talked about reducing sexual assaults but minimized and demonized survivors with the courage to come forward and tell their stories.

The Austrian doctor Alfred Adler, who's work on Individual Psychology is the basis for much of today's PTSD treatment, once said, it's much easier to fight for one's principles than to live up to them. In the same vein, it's much easier to talk about one's principles than to act upon them.

Lip service won't get the job done.

Action will.

Keep your feet moving