Photography as Presence

Photography as Presence Download

I’m out here in Fairmount Park, Philadelphia.
Snow falling.
The sound of the creek.
Cold air on my skin.
Ricoh GR IIIx on the wrist.

This is pure bliss.

Photography, for me, is not about the photograph. It’s about how deeply it allows me to experience the world — the sights, the sounds, the smells, the physical sensation of walking on concrete or snow. When I have a camera with me, I see more clearly. I’m more observant. More aware.

Photography places me here.
Not in the past.
Not in the future.
But right now.

Seeing vs. Feeling

Yes, I have eyes.
Yes, I can recognize light, gesture, pattern, composition.
I understand photography. I’ve studied it. I’ve lived it. I’ve built my entire lifestyle around it.

But what guides me now isn’t rational understanding.

It’s feeling.

The irrational, emotional impulse that tells me when to press the shutter — that’s what I’m tapping into. That intuitive pull. That moment where thought disappears and action remains.

In the past, my problem with photography was my preconceived idea of what photography should be. I knew too much. I tried too hard. I wanted to make a photograph.

Now, I’m trying to let go.

Becoming a Vessel

I’m removing the identity of “photographer.”

I’m no longer here to prove anything.
I’m no longer responsible for outcomes.
Good photo. Bad photo. Strong composition. Weak image.

None of that is in my control.

What is in my control is this:

Moving through the world
Living my everyday life
Bringing my camera along for the ride

I position my body on the front lines of life and experience things fully. Whatever happens in the frame happens.

I’m not hunting.
I’m not seeking.
I’m not striving.

I’m simply being and responding.

Enthusiasm & Flow

There’s a word: enthusiasm.
It comes from the idea of being possessed by God.

That’s the feeling I get on the street.

A pep in my step.
A strong gait.
Vitality.
Spiritedness.

My photographs don’t come from theory. They come from physical vigor. From movement. From being alive in my body.

Photography has nothing to do with photography.
It has everything to do with how you engage with life.

Following the Light

Photography is light.

Without light, there is no image.
Without light, there is no life.

I follow the light because it makes me feel good.
Under the sun, my body remembers that it’s alive — in my bones, my heart, my spirit.

Light is always changing.
Always shifting.
Always in flux.

That’s what intrigues me.

Photography is using light to create something from nothing.

That is its superpower.

Stripping It All Away

Practically, this is how I’ve been working:

High-contrast black and white
Small JPEG files
Automatic settings
Highlight-weighted metering
Exposing for what matters
Crushing what doesn’t

I expose for the highlights and let the shadows fall away. I leave out the superfluous details and focus only on what the light reveals.

I photograph loosely. I’m not really looking — at least not in the traditional sense. I have an understanding of what I’m seeing, but I’m responding from curiosity. Curiosity about light. Curiosity about how it hits surfaces, people, places, and things.

Photography Without Trying

I no longer make photographs from a rational state.
I make them from the gut.

I respond intuitively.
I press the shutter without fully knowing why.

The result often becomes something I didn’t see — and that’s the point. I’m a vessel for the camera. The sensor interprets the light, and that interpretation is what intrigues me.

Photography becomes a way of looking beyond the mundane.
The mundane becomes a dream.

Flow as the Goal

I want to enter flow — and stay there as long as possible.

Flow comes from:

Feeling your heartbeat
Feeling the sun on your skin
Feeling the cold in your nose
Feeling the snow beneath your feet

It comes from being in your body, in reality, interacting with the world.

I can’t rationally explain why I photograph what I photograph. I see something and respond. The images become reflections of my subconscious, not my intellect.

Meaning in the Process

Whether the photograph is interesting to anyone else does not matter.

Meaning is found in the process.

Photography breaks the loop.
It breaks the monotony.
It breaks the checklist.

Through photography, the mundane becomes extraordinary.

I create a new world through my images — my inner world — by tapping into flow and intuition. That is the purest expression I can offer.

The goal is internal.
The goal requires nothing external.

The goal is curiosity.
The goal is flow.
The goal is enthusiasm — that feeling of being possessed by life itself.

That’s why I bring my camera everywhere.

Now — back to chopping trees.