A young boy peers out through a shattered wall in Port-au-Prince, Haiti.
(First published 30 years ago)
I can’t really say why I went down to Haiti in the first place. A friend of mine, who lived there, wrote and suggested I make the journey to “see some places and faces that would fill a whole book.” As every egocentric photographer knows, that’s all you really need to hear. What a jerky reason to go.
HELPFUL NOTE: That’s rock guitarist The Edge from U2 (with the skullcap, not the wig). If you’re still confused about how to say South Bend Mayor Pete Buttigieg’s name after this, it’s pronounced “PEET.”
What a year for movies — a very strange, crazy year.
Two of the Academy Award nominations for Best Picture — Bohemian Rhapsody and Vice — scored in the 60s on Rotten Tomatoes, the number one website for collecting movie reviews. A third film — Green Book — got a tepid 81% score.
And here’s the thing, I think one or two of them should win!
Crunch Time: the Picture Editing team putting together the 120-page book at The Mountain Workshops.
I met Zach this past fall down in Kentucky at The Mountain Workshops, a week-longintensive dive into photojournalism. He was one of our students in the Picture Editing sequence that I’ve been lucky enough to help teach each fall for a large part of this millennium.
Zach made us laugh, worked really hard and helped us — with our other students — pull together a 120-page book of photos and stories in less than a week. But I think I bonded with him during our shady drug deal on the streets of a small Kentucky town.
Pike Place Market: They toss fish back and forth here to tourist’s delight, but a neon flying fish remains stationary on the roof.
Mid-November, mid-50s, completely unexpected Seattle brilliance. This is the worst month to visit Seattle, or so the internet tells us. So much for all the rain, all the gray, “put your tourism on hold for now” advisements.
The autumn sun shines down, setting a gentle lens flare on one of the Hopewell Mounds.
It’s a first-frost-on-your-windshield kind of fall day. The sun creaks above the horizon and the frozen blades of grass quickly melt onto my shoes. Walking out among the mounds, I step back in time.
I’ve photographed some of the best and brightest politicians — Bill Clinton and Al Gore — and some of the least auspicious, like the fun mayor of Concord, New Hampshire, who moonlighted as my Social Work professor, while I was working on my Master’s degree.
When I photographed politicians and political campaigns in the past, I had to be objective and not let my own personal preferences sway my journalistic integrity. Spending so much time traipsing around the Granite State during The New Hampshire Primaries, I did indeed form opinions about the candidates I covered. But I had to keep those opinions to myself.
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