What I Learned from my Top Nine Photographs (2019 Edition)

Let’s Jump Right in, Shall We?

I’ll spare you the usual “2019-was-kinda-crazy-but-gee-I-sure-did-do-a-lot-of-growing” fiddle-faddle. If you are anything like me, you’re punch-drunk on travel and entering Day 10 of indulgence-related-indigestion (I’m pretty sure I ate every last crawfish in Louisiana this holiday season).

So I’ll show you my top nine 2019 instagram photos (chosen by total number of likes). I’ll also spend a few seconds talking about a lesson I can draw from each one. This is about as introspective as I’m willing to get from the airport Burger King where I’m writing this post. Apologies if any of these lessons read as social media quasi-metaphysical inspirational memes. I am, after all, a product of my generation. Okay - to the photos! (Note - if the pictures are showing up too large in your browser, simply click on one to bring it up in lightbox form).

Alpine Pond in the Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness

I snapped this photo while guiding for Backpacking Light. It was one of the few clear hours we got as a storm prepared to move in - a storm that eventually dumped four feet of snow all across Montana. I’ve probably got two hundred photos of this lake from various angles, camera settings, and lighting conditions - all taken during a ten minute break while hiking.

The takeaway? Keep Iterating. This is a lesson I know well, but it’s worth reminding myself. Rarely do I capture the perfect image on the first shot. For me it’s an iterative process, like sketching. This is also useful to remember as I (and you) produce crap that we don’t like. We can choose to see the crap (even if it is supposed to be a final product) as just one iteration in the process.

Portrait Session with Antonio Modesto

I’m rarely on the other end of the camera. But I needed some new headshots to refresh my professional pages. I’d been introduced to Antonio and his work through a mutual friend, and immediately came to respect his intimate, unique approach to portraiture. Below is one of the many final products he gave me - you can find other examples scattered across this website and my social networking pages.

This experience was a good reminder to Be Intentional in My Support of Fellow Artists - and by “intentional support" I mean “give them money for their work.” Nuff said.

Tahoe Sunrise

I’m surrounded by incredible natural beauty. Not everyone is, and I’m grateful. I’ve been working my entire adult life to get out of exurbs and into a beautiful place (I’ve gotten here with the usual tangle of support system, work, skill, and blind-stinking-luck). This little shot, taken with my phone about a hundred yards from my house, is not an unusual sight in Tahoe. Which leads me to this lesson: Don’t Become Desensitized - This thought applies to beauty, yes. But going into 2020 I’m also going to apply it to a range of other things: relationships, politics, etc. The current president and his cadre of boot-lickers is counting on us to become desensitized to his continual onslaught of lies, racism, xenophobia, bigotry, misogyny, and warmongering (and so on). We have to keep remembering: This isn’t the way it should be. This isn’t the way it HAS to be.

Tahoe Sunset

Shot on my phone while walking to our local watering-hole. It’s easy to get caught up in the latest tools and techniques - but as I often told my photography students - the best camera is the one you have in your hand. Or, to look at it another way, The best tool is your mind. Lately I’ve been applying this maxim to non-art related areas of my life, such as martial arts or backpacking.

Storm Clouds over the Eastern Sierra

I shot this while leaving Yosemite National Park. I’d spent two days in the park and was feeling discouraged because I hadn’t made a decent photograph. Then we came around a bend after leaving the park and I thought I saw a good image taking shape. I almost didn’t ask my wife to pull over - we were all tired and ready to get to our hotel, and I had a camera full of bad shots. I’m so glad that I did. To me this shot encompasses everything I love about black-and-white mountain photography - moody skies, velvety granite, and drama. The takeaway? Don’t let discouragement keep you from making art. Hard for any creative, but particularly those of us who wrassle (as my people say) with depression. This gets into deeper issues of discipline vs. motivation, but for now let’s just leave it with this thought: if you are waiting around for the perfect time to make some art (or do anything at all), you’ll be waiting forever. Take your leap.

Butterflies in Death Valley National Park

In the spring of 2019 Rachael and I escaped the snowy Sierra and traveled down to Death Valley NP. I shot a lot of cool landscapes there, but this image of butterflies drowning in a rare puddle seemed to make an impression on folks. I don’t have a good lesson for this one, other than maybe Look down at your feet every now and then, even when shooting landscapes.

Death Valley NP Landscape

My favorite shot from our Death Valley trip, so I’m glad it made this list. I spent a year living in west Texas and learning to shoot deserts, and that experience came in handy in Death Valley. The lesson here? Sometimes it’s all about how you frame things.

Tahoe Sun Shower

Another late spring shot, this time from just outside our cabin. This was one of the first images I took with my Sony RX100 vi. Likely this dynamic range would have been impossible with my old first gen Canon 7D, and the precision focus next-to-impossible with my phone. Welcome to life, babies - this lesson directly contradicts one of my previous lessons. Sometimes, the tools in your toolbox really do matter.

Leaving the Beartooths

Remember that storm I mentioned, the one that dumped four feet of snow on Montana just after we left? Here it comes. I took this photo primarily as reference material for a painting (I keep thinking I’m going to figure out how to paint mist, but, so far, spoiler alert - I haven’t) but ended up liking it so much that I threw it up on insta. My lesson for this image is one I drew from this trip in general - changing plans doesn’t mean failure. This takeaway has been crucial to the last few years of my life and ties to something I’ll be talking about in my next fertility-related blog post - The Fine Art of Giving Up. Stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, all. What’s your favorite? Drop me a note in the comments!