Pray the rosary while walking to the mercury pavilion along the cliffside behind the art museum.

The most beautiful way to end the day

Unbothered and unattached to the outcome. Let go of control and enjoy the serendipity of life

Everything happens exactly as it should. Even the “bad” stuff

Cowards need certainty

The Visual Language of FLUX

FLUX is a visual language built around movement, chance, fragmentation, repetition, and the transformation of ordinary life into evidence.

The photography uses high-contrast black and white, 28mm proximity, layered compositions, graphic geometry, human gesture, and ambiguity. The street is treated as a constantly changing visual field where chaos briefly resolves into order.

FLUX TV extends this language into time through Handycam footage, ambient sound, repetition, sequencing, abrupt movement, and fragmented observation. Output through CRT televisions introduces scanlines, distortion, flicker, degradation, and the aesthetic of broadcast, surveillance, public-access television, and obsolete media.

The physical archive adopts a deliberately bureaucratic aesthetic: cheap monochrome laser printing, ordinary printer paper, toner, manila folders, labels, file numbers, contact sheets, and utilitarian office materials. Photographs become less like precious art objects and more like documents, records, or pieces of evidence.

This creates the central tension of FLUX:

Life is chaotic, fleeting, and uncontrollable. The archive attempts to classify, number, contain, and preserve it.

FLUX moves between these two forces—experience and documentation, movement and containment, signal and artifact.

Photography freezes it.
Video lets it flow.
CRT transmits it.
The printer reduces it.
The folder contains it.
The archive accumulates it.

FLUX is the bureaucratization of lived experience: witnessing the continuous transformation of everyday life, then recording, printing, filing, looping, broadcasting, and preserving its remains.

The Visual Diary Mindset That Changed My Street Photography | Flux Archive #4

What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante.

Welcome to Flux Archive #4, where I share some of the photographs I’ve made over the past few years and the lessons I’ve learned throughout my decade-long journey practicing street photography.

Today we’re looking through Flux Volume 4—photographs made throughout August 2023 across Philadelphia, New York City, and Costa Rica.

More than anything, I want to share the idea of using photography as a visual diary, and why I believe this approach unlocks entirely new possibilities for your practice.

Let Moments Come to You

The first photograph was made from my apartment window.

Around 7 PM, after dinner, I looked outside and noticed smoke rising from a fire in North Philadelphia. I simply saw the moment and made the photograph.

The goal isn’t to constantly hunt for photographs. It’s to allow moments to come toward you.

That simple shift changes everything.

Photography stops becoming something you chase and instead becomes a way of paying attention.

Gestures Are Everywhere

One of the easiest things to look for in street photography is gesture.

A hand adjusting sunglasses.

A couple kissing.

People interacting with each other.

These small movements instantly add life to a frame.

If you’re ever unsure what to photograph, begin looking for hands, body language, and interactions between people. They’re simple visual triggers that repeat endlessly throughout the streets.

Follow the Light

Sometimes people don’t matter at all.

Sometimes it’s the light.

Artificial light underground.
Natural light breaking through clouds.
Shadows stretching across the street.

Don’t get caught up asking whether something is or isn’t street photography.

Allow light and curiosity to guide you.

One practical exercise I constantly return to is simply looking upward.

By exposing for the highlights and crushing the shadows in high-contrast black and white, clouds become abstract, dramatic, and almost otherworldly.

Whenever I don’t know what to photograph…

I photograph the sky.

Shooting From the Hip with the Ricoh GR

One of my favorite photographs in this collection was made in Queens.

I’d never been there before.

Three women stood outside a storefront, and I made the photograph while casually walking past.

With the Ricoh GR, I rarely need to raise the camera to my eye.

Looking down at the LCD gives me enough information to understand how the composition will align.

I often hold the camera low, press the shutter with my thumb, and photograph discreetly.

You can still create strong compositions without ever looking through a viewfinder.

The Ricoh makes that possible.

Don’t Be Afraid to Engage

At Coney Island I noticed a couple dancing beneath the boardwalk.

Instead of staying distant, I walked over.

We talked.

I held their speaker while they danced.

Then I photographed the scene.

Being emotionally present changes the photographs you make.

You can engage with people and still come home with candid photographs.

Immediately afterward I found a group of boys playing basketball on the beach.

I’d never seen that before.

Again, curiosity led the way.

Photography Is a Visual Puzzle

Every photograph is a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Your position.
The background.
The timing.
The gesture.

All of it has to come together.

For the basketball photograph, I dropped low so the player separated cleanly from the sky.

The hoop.
The tower.
The dunk.

Everything aligned because of where I positioned myself.

Layering begins with movement.

Instinct Matters Too

Not every photograph is carefully constructed.

When my brother and I arrived in Costa Rica, a local dog wandered near our Airbnb.

I instinctively lifted the camera and made the photograph.

Frames made from instinct often carry a different energy.

There’s a balance between careful composition and immediate reaction.

Sometimes you solve the puzzle.

Sometimes you simply trust yourself.

Photograph Your Life

Costa Rica reminded me why I love photography.

My brother looking out the window before a storm.

The ocean.

The beach.

A tilted horizon.

A reflection in the car mirror.

These photographs matter because they’re my life.

Looking back through them allows me to relive those memories.

That’s the power of the visual diary.

Finding Meaning Through Abstraction

High-contrast black and white helps me simplify the world.

By exposing for highlights and allowing shadows to disappear, ordinary scenes become abstract and emotional.

A horse.

An insect.

A spider.

My brother juggling rocks against the sky.

Abstraction helps me find meaning in everyday life.

Learn the Light in Your City

One of my favorite places to photograph is Market Street in Philadelphia.

Around 5 PM, during certain times of the year, the light becomes incredible.

Knowing your city matters.

Know where the light falls.

Put the sun behind you.

Expose for the highlights.

Wait.

You don’t always have to chase people.

Sometimes you simply stand still and allow gestures to arrive.

Everyday Moments Matter

I photographed my friends while we watched Oppenheimer.

The photograph happened the exact moment the atomic bomb exploded on screen.

Those small personal moments become part of the diary too.

So do the tunnels beneath City Hall.

I’ve photographed there countless times because the light is endlessly beautiful.

Sometimes I hold the camera high.

Sometimes I shoot vertically.

Sometimes I simply wait for people to enter the frame.

Fishing the scene.

Waiting for convergence.

Turn the Camera Around

Don’t forget to photograph yourself.

I make self-portraits often.

They’re part of the diary too.

Photography isn’t only about documenting what life looks like.

It’s about documenting how life feels.

Reflections.

Distorted windows.

Imperfections.

Atmosphere.

Mood.

These choices create a world that feels personal rather than objective.

Photograph What Brings You Joy

A discarded newspaper.

A couple riding a scooter.

A father and daughter.

Someone sitting alone in a park.

There is always something worth photographing.

The more consistently you go out, the more you’ll begin recognizing recurring patterns.

Eventually those compositional decisions become instinctive.

Your eye develops naturally.

Photography becomes less about searching and more about seeing.

Thank you for watching.

If you’d like to print this body of work, you can find the Flux Volume 4 PDF in the description.

You can also submit 36 photographs through the Flux Generator for a chance to have your own issue reviewed here on the YouTube channel.

If you’d like to join the Flux community and our Discord, click the Join button below.

I’ll see you in the next one.

Peace.

Today, Sunday, August 16, 2026 — the Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, the Catholic Gospel was Matthew 15:21–28, the story of the Canaanite woman’s extraordinary faith. 

---

21 And Jesus went from thence, and retired into the coasts of Tyre and Sidon.

22 And behold a woman of Canaan who came out of those coasts, crying out, said to him: Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou son of David: my daughter is grievously troubled by the devil.

23 Who answered her not a word. And his disciples came and besought him, saying: Send her away, for she crieth after us:

24 And he answering, said: I was not sent but to the sheep that are lost of the house of Israel.

25 But she came and adored him, saying: Lord, help me.

26 Who answering, said: It is not good to take the bread of the children, and to cast it to the dogs.

27 But she said: Yea, Lord; for the whelps also eat of the crumbs that fall from the table of their masters.

28 Then Jesus answering, said to her: O woman, great is thy faith: be it done to thee as thou wilt. And her daughter was cured from that hour. 

---

The passage is doing several things at once: it is about a mother’s desperate intercession, the apparent silence of God, the boundaries between Israel and the Gentiles, humility, perseverance, and a faith that becomes more explicit through testing.

The woman is a Canaanite, which matters immediately. She is not part of Israel. “Canaanite” deliberately evokes the ancient peoples historically opposed to Israel. Yet she approaches Jesus using a profoundly Jewish messianic title: “Lord, Son of David.” She recognizes something about who he is before she has any claim, socially or religiously, upon him.

Her daughter is described as being tormented by a demon. In the plain sense of the Gospel, this is presented as real demonic affliction, not merely a metaphor for difficult behavior or mental illness. The mother is powerless to free her daughter herself, so she brings the suffering to Christ. There is also a spiritual pattern Christians have long seen here: evil enslaves and disorders human beings, while Christ possesses the authority to liberate them. The mother therefore becomes an image of intercessory faith—someone crying to God not primarily for herself, but for somebody she loves.

Then comes perhaps the most unsettling line:

“But he did not say a word in answer to her.”

Jesus’ silence feels cold. She is desperate, her daughter is suffering, and he seemingly ignores her.

But notice what the silence produces: she keeps coming.

She cries out.
She follows.
She kneels before him.
She reduces her entire prayer to:

“Lord, help me.”

Her faith becomes simpler and deeper.

That is one of the great spiritual meanings of this passage. There are moments when God seems absent, prayers seem unanswered, and nothing changes. The temptation is to conclude, God has rejected me. This woman does the opposite. The silence does not drive her away from Christ; it drives her more completely toward him.

Then Jesus says:

“I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”

This reflects the historical order of Jesus’ earthly mission. The Messiah comes through Israel, fulfills God’s promises to Israel, and from Israel salvation ultimately goes outward to the nations. Matthew’s Gospel eventually ends with Christ commanding his disciples to make disciples “of all nations.”

So Jesus isn’t saying Gentiles have no place in God’s salvation. The story itself will demonstrate precisely the opposite. But the woman is standing at the boundary of the old covenant order, and the conversation dramatizes that boundary before showing it being crossed.

Then comes the hardest statement:

“It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs.”

To modern ears, it sounds insulting.

The children represent Israel.
The bread represents the blessings of the Messiah.
The dogs represent those outside Israel—the Gentiles.

There is some nuance in the Greek: the word used can refer to little household dogs, rather than feral street dogs. That softens the imagery somewhat, but it does not eliminate the uncomfortable hierarchy in the metaphor. Jesus places the objection before her in its strongest form: Why should Israel’s promised Messiah give Israel’s bread to an outsider?

And her response is brilliant:

“Please, Lord, for even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from the table of their masters.”

She does not fight Jesus’ metaphor.

She enters it.

She does not say, “How dare you call me a dog.”

She essentially says:

Then let me be the dog. Because even the dog is still inside the master’s house, and one crumb from your table is enough.

That is the extraordinary moment.

She makes no claim based upon entitlement. Her claim is entirely based upon his abundance.

She does not say:

“I deserve this.”

She says, in effect:

“You are so abundant that even what overflows from you is enough to save my daughter.”

That is why the imagery of the crumbs is so powerful. She understands something about divine mercy: Christ does not become poorer by giving it away.

And then the entire tone changes:

“O woman, great is your faith!”

That is enormous praise. In Matthew, the disciples themselves are repeatedly described as having “little faith.” Yet this foreign woman is told that her faith is great.

And her daughter is healed.

So regarding what you called Jesus’ initial “rudeness”: I would phrase it a little more carefully. The text deliberately allows Jesus to appear severe, distant, and resistant. Christians have interpreted why in different ways. One ancient interpretation is that Christ is testing and drawing out the woman’s faith, not because he needs to discover what is inside her, but so that her faith can become manifest—to herself, to the disciples, and to everyone witnessing the encounter.

In that sense, your intuition about transformation through resistance is very close to an important spiritual reading of the passage.

Look at her progression:

At first she cries from a distance:

“Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David.”

Then she comes closer and kneels:

“Lord, help me.”

Then she accepts total humility:

“Even the dogs eat the crumbs.”

And finally Christ reveals what has been happening:

“Great is your faith.”

The apparent rejection has exposed something extraordinary inside her.

But I wouldn’t say Jesus is simply being cruel so that he can “force” her to change. The deeper idea is that Christ permits resistance to draw her faith all the way into the open. He takes the social and religious barrier separating her from Israel and allows her faith to break straight through it.

There is another beautiful detail: the disciples want her sent away. Jesus does not send her away.

They are irritated by her persistence:

“Send her away, for she keeps calling out after us.”

Yet she ends up becoming the person Jesus publicly praises.

The outsider understands Christ more deeply than the insiders.

That reversal appears constantly throughout the Gospels.

And there is an even deeper meaning to the mother herself. She refuses to abandon her daughter to evil. Her daughter cannot even come to Jesus herself. The mother’s faith carries her to Christ.

That makes this passage one of the strongest biblical images of intercessory prayer:

Someone else is suffering.
You cannot save them yourself.
You bring them before Christ.
You continue praying when nothing seems to happen.
And you trust his mercy more than you trust what the silence appears to mean.

The whole passage could almost be reduced to this:

Jesus seems silent. She stays.
Jesus presents a barrier. She stays.
Jesus humbles her. She stays.
And eventually what appeared to be rejection is revealed as the stage upon which her extraordinary faith becomes visible.

The woman realizes something profound: she does not need to be powerful enough, worthy enough, or important enough. She only needs Christ to be Christ.

And one crumb of his mercy is enough.

Don’t allow an algorithm determine what enters your mind. Unsubscribe from everyone and disable and delete it all.

Only consume information that you pay for. For example- the Peterson Academy lectures are actually worth paying for and consuming. Watching social media content will shove you through a funnel and put you down a path of no return. You will start to subconsciously pick up on unhealthy beliefs and patterns of behavior that are difficult to unlearn.

If you are actively consuming social media content you are susceptible to so much destruction. Just read the Bible, ancient texts, and pay for education

Create your own worldview

Profile → ☰ → Accounts Center → Profiles and personal details → Manage → Deactivation or deletion → select your Instagram account → Delete account.

When you become a completely integrated individual, no longer dependent on the external world to feel whole, you can love abundantly

Flux Weekly Witness #13: Blur, Gesture & Everyday Street Photography

What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante.

Welcome to Flux Weekly Witness #13, where I look at the photographs that you submit to me in the Flux community.

Today we’re looking through the last five days from Suhaib Al-Jawahri. These photographs were made throughout the month of July in New York City.

Suhaib says he’s finding inspiration from Daido Moriyama and Josef Koudelka, two photographers who use high-contrast black and white aesthetics in a way that’s deeply emotional. Let’s dive in.

Intimate Moments Close to Home

Right off the bat we have this cat looking directly into the lens.

It’s such a small, intimate scene. Something incredibly ordinary, maybe photographed inside the home.

I really resonate with pictures that are homebound—work that’s personal and close to you.

Having a Ricoh with you at all times really lends itself to this kind of photography.

The Strongest Portrait

These next two frames immediately stood out to me.

The intimacy of this child’s eye, combined with the light reflecting off the nose, creates such a special moment.

The vertical framing really emphasizes the gesture of the gaze.

There’s something extremely special about the nuance of the light and the way it falls across the face.

This is probably my strongest frame from the entire set.

Alongside it we have these flowers, and I love pairing human photographs with nature or inanimate objects.

It opens your horizons.

You don’t need to photograph only one thing.

Stay open to all the different complexities of life.

Echoes Between Frames

These photographs of the children work almost like a diptych.

One is photographed from above.

The other shows a boy drinking from a can.

Although they’re different people, there’s something about the framing that makes them feel connected.

On the right, the frame-within-a-frame composition emphasizes the gesture beautifully.

The left image is more mysterious.

The shadows covering the face create ambiguity while turning the hair into a simple geometric shape.

Simple Gestures Matter

Moving back into New York City, we have this textured photograph with the repeated “New York” typography.

Next to it is a man reaching for his glasses.

I can actually tell Suhaib is probably using the crop mode on the Ricoh here because the framing feels much tighter.

It’s a very simple gesture.

But that’s exactly why it works.

Everything in the composition points back toward that small movement.

Even the strip of light in the background helps separate the figure and gives the frame more depth.

Blur as Emotion

One image that really surprised me was this sporting event.

I honestly couldn’t tell if it was a photograph of a photograph or an actual live moment.

The blur, imperfections, and movement make it feel surreal.

You know they’re playing a sport…

But emotionally it becomes something much stranger.

That’s why I enjoy it.

The aesthetic qualities of blur resonate with me much more than technical perfection.

Strange Things Along the Walk

One of my favorite discoveries is this broom balanced across two traffic cones.

These are the moments that reward paying attention.

He also has a really strong sense of when to shoot vertically versus horizontally.

That instinct shows throughout the body of work.

Portraits with Feeling

There are several close-up portraits here that are blurry and imperfect.

I genuinely enjoy that aesthetic.

Especially imagining these printed on old monochrome laser printers using ordinary copy paper.

There’s something about that presentation that really suits the photographs.

One frame feels slightly weaker because the sunglasses remove some of the human connection.

Compositionally it’s still interesting because of the negative space and the relationship between the rectangular forms.

But the next portrait has much more emotion.

Even a simple gesture—covering the nose—creates tension.

That emotional gesture elevates the photograph.

Nature Against Industry

We move into photographs of ivy growing across industrial buildings.

There’s always something compelling about nature slowly reclaiming man-made structures.

Nearby we see stacks of vintage televisions creating repetitive patterns and shapes.

Those repetitions naturally lend themselves to photography.

Framing the Subject

There’s also an interesting photograph of a religious sculpture framed through a window.

Normally cutting off half of the face might feel distracting.

Here it actually works.

Using the architecture itself as a framing device creates something much more intriguing.

Photographing the Phone Era

We hear all the time that street photography has been ruined because everyone is looking down at their phones.

I actually think the better approach is to lean into it.

This close-up of someone’s hand gripping a phone becomes interesting precisely because it reflects the time we’re living in.

Years from now, these everyday gestures may become historically meaningful.

Street photography changes.

Our job is to respond to that change instead of fighting it.

Building Sequences

I almost pair this phone photograph with the portrait that follows.

The close-up face hidden in shadow.

The mustache.

The tension.

Together they almost feel like the same person.

Sometimes photographs naturally begin creating conversations with one another.

Movement Everywhere

We move into blurry photographs on the subway.

Legs repeating across the sidewalk.

A small foot tucked into the corner of the frame.

Graphic compositions built from negative space.

A man moving through blur.

I really enjoyed the energy throughout this sequence.

Looking Beyond People

There’s a man praying.

A silhouetted cyclist.

Graffiti.

An empty parking lot.

Cathedral architecture.

Street infrastructure.

One photograph in particular is packed with visual energy.

Poles.

Curbs.

Leading lines.

Cones.

Manholes.

Shadows.

Everything comes together into one cohesive composition.

Photograph Everything

I appreciate the variety throughout this body of work.

It’s not only about people.

It’s also about strange discoveries along the walk.

Like that broom from earlier.

Or this fuzzy pillow sitting on top of a bench.

Walk through the world believing everything has photographic potential.

Final Thoughts

We finish with a wonderfully textured frame that reads:

“Jesus Saves” alongside “Free Palestine.”

As always, at the back of every Flux issue you’ll find the contact sheets and manifest documents.

If you’d like to print this work yourself, the link is in the description.

If you’d like to submit your own photographs for review, generate your own Flux issue using the link below.

If your work is selected, there’s a chance I’ll review it here on the YouTube channel.

I really enjoyed looking through this body of work.

I’m especially inspired by Suhaib’s use of blur.

Aesthetically, it really resonates with me.

This portrait remains my favorite frame from the entire issue.

Really great work.

Keep it up.

I’ll see you guys in the next video.

Peace.

The Ricoh GR IV Monochrome Changed My Photography Forever

What’s poppin’, people?

I’m currently out for a beautiful walk here in Philadelphia, and today I wanted to share my thoughts on the Ricoh GR IV Monochrome after using it for the past few months.

Honestly, I don’t even know exactly how long I’ve had it. I’ve been using it since release, and today I simply wanted to talk about why this camera means so much to me.

Not from a technical perspective.

But from a philosophical one.

This Camera Changed My Life

I’m obviously biased.

I’m a Ricoh GR user.

But the reason I’m so passionate about this camera is because photography is the most meaningful thing in my life.

The tool you use every day matters.

And having a camera that slips into my pocket and is always ready has completely changed the way I experience life.

Creation gives you an incredible feeling.

It makes you feel purposeful.

Strong.

Alive.

When life becomes overwhelming, I can simply reach into my pocket, pull out the camera, press the shutter, and say yes to life.

That’s what this camera gives me.

Simplicity Creates Freedom

There are countless cameras available today.

But for me, nothing replaces the Ricoh GR.

Its size changes everything.

It’s always with you.

It’s always ready.

And because of that, photography becomes effortless.

The monochrome version takes that philosophy even further.

By removing color entirely, one more decision disappears.

No more wondering:

• Should this be color?
• Should this be black and white?

That choice is already made.

You’re simply left with photography.

When you remove choices…

You remove hesitation.

A Philosophical Decision

The jump from the GR III to the GR IV Monochrome is honestly pretty small.

But that’s not why I chose it.

Choosing a monochrome camera is me making a statement.

It’s me saying:

“I’m a monochrome photographer.”

It’s a philosophy more than a specification.

That mindset changes everything.

The Red Filter Is Magic

One of my favorite additions is the red filter.

Even though the camera is limited to monochrome, adding the red filter completely transforms how light renders.

The exact same scene suddenly becomes something entirely different.

That surprise never gets old.

Every time I press the shutter I’m curious to see:

How will reality be translated into a photograph?

How will this sensor interpret light?

Why I Believe Monochrome Lasts Forever

For me, monochrome photography is sustainable.

It’s something I can see myself practicing for the rest of my life.

By stripping away color, photography naturally becomes more abstract.

I’m shooting with:

• Maximum contrast
• Crushed shadows
• Highlight priority
• JPEG only
• Everything baked into the camera

There is no post-processing.

The photograph already exists.

And something interesting happens.

You think:

What you see is what you get.

But in reality…

What you get back is what you didn’t see.

High-contrast monochrome transforms reality.

Even the most ordinary walk becomes fascinating because light behaves in ways I never expected.

Every day feels new again.

Infinite Curiosity

Because of this setup, I no longer need interesting subjects.

Light is enough.

Every shadow.

Every reflection.

Every silhouette.

Everything becomes worth photographing.

That’s what keeps me going outside every single day.

Photography becomes play.

Not work.

There Is Nothing Left To Remove

Over the years I’ve been simplifying everything.

Now my photography consists of:

• A black box
• One shutter button
• Automatic settings
• High contrast
• Small JPEG files

That’s it.

There’s nothing else left to subtract.

And I’ve realized something.

The more you remove…

The more your own way of seeing begins to emerge.

Style Comes From Repetition

People often think style comes from shooting black and white.

Or from using a certain camera.

I don’t believe that.

Style comes from repetition.

It comes from instinct.

My entire process with the Ricoh GR is built around reaching the point where thinking disappears.

All that’s left is intuition.

Multiple photographers could use this exact setup…

And every single one would produce different work.

Because instinct is personal.

A Workflow That Disappears

When I get home, everything stays simple.

I plug the camera into my phone.

Scroll through the JPEGs.

Then I print them.

Not on expensive photo paper.

On cheap office copy paper.

And somehow…

That gives me more joy.

I’m embracing imperfection.

I’m embracing simplicity.

The physical object matters more than perfect print quality.

Photography As A Personal Diary

Monochrome feels deeply personal.

It goes beyond documentation.

The photographs become emotional.

A visual diary.

A reflection of my days.

If you’re looking for a way to genuinely express yourself through photography…

I honestly don’t think there’s a better tool than the Ricoh GR IV Monochrome.

Forgetting You’re A Photographer

One of my favorite parts about this camera is that nobody notices it.

I don’t wear a camera around my neck.

I don’t look like a photographer.

I’m simply walking through life.

Then something happens.

I pull the camera from my pocket.

Take one photograph.

And continue walking.

That feeling is incredibly liberating.

Removing the viewfinder.

Using Snapshot Focus.

Making imperfect compositions.

All of those limitations become strengths.

They keep me curious.

They keep me playful.

Photography For Life

Using the Ricoh GR has genuinely changed my life.

It has made photography joyful again.

It has made me more curious.

It has given me a process I can imagine sustaining for the rest of my life.

And that’s ultimately why I continue sharing these thoughts.

Not because I’m interested in gear.

But because I’m interested in what a simple tool can do for the way we experience life.

If that resonates with you, I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Until next time.

Peace.

Just change your perspective.

If you ever have any doubts about what you should photograph, just go to a place where you can look out towards the horizon or up at the clouds above. When you visit these locations and have a clear view, you’ll start to realize the infinite expanse and the potential in the unknown. If I don’t know what I should photograph, I instantly seek the clouds.

Otherwise, just look below your feet, and notice the beauty of the details beneath

Luxury Isn’t Money — It’s Freedom, Sunlight & Movement

What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante.

I’m currently walking around one of my favorite places—Penn’s Landing here in Philadelphia.

Check it out.

Construction.

Yeah, we’ve had construction here for the past year or two, and we’ve got a new park that’s coming soon. Well… probably not soon. Maybe 2030. It’s going to take a while.

But let me say it here first:

This is going to be one of the most beautiful parks in the country.

You might be wondering why.

Look at this beautiful river.

The park is going to extend over the highway with this gigantic bridge connecting Old City directly into Penn’s Landing. I just think it’s going to be incredible.

This is one of those places I naturally gravitate toward.

Open spaces.

The water.

The horizon.

I come here to decompress.

To look out into the distance.

To watch people.

To feel the sun on my skin.

Sometimes I take my shirt off and just walk.

I feel good by the water.

I feel good when I have a clear view of the horizon.

It feels like anything is possible.

I love watching the planes fly overhead.

I like staring at the bridge and watching the cars move in the distance.

It reminds me of being a kid.

My brother, one of our cousins, and I used to ride our bikes around here exploring. We even climbed on top of one of those old buildings—I think it was some kind of navy fortress.

Those memories never really leave you.

Freestyle Vlogging

Today I’m just freestyle vlogging with the Sony DCR-SR40.

Check it out.

I was told I’d make a good influencer.

So here’s my commercial…

The Vibram FiveFinger Commercial

This is my official advertisement for the Vibram FiveFinger ELX shoe.

Transcend the modern world and experience what it’s like to tap into the infinite unknown by grounding yourself in nature.

Barefoot sensation.

Honestly…

It’s kind of like wearing normal shoes is a condom.

But barefoot shoes let you actually feel the sensations of the earth beneath your feet.

So there you go.

My official Vibram FiveFinger announcement.

A quick advertisement from Flux TV.

That would actually make a pretty good commercial.

What do you think?

What It Means to Be an Influencer

What does it actually mean to be an influencer?

I don’t think it means promoting products.

I don’t think influence comes from convincing people to buy something.

I think being an influencer means becoming undeniably great at something.

When you’re undeniably great…

People naturally want to emulate you.

They don’t copy you because you told them to.

They copy you because the work speaks for itself.

Maybe being an influencer is the modern-day luxury.

Not because of fame.

But because we live in a world where everyone is constantly consuming.

Food.

Media.

Entertainment.

Everything.

To be a producer…

To be a creator…

To be a mover.

To be a shaker.

To actually be out in the field doing something—

That feels like one of the greatest privileges you can have.

The Real Definition of Luxury

The ultimate privilege today seems to be the freedom of your mind.

The freedom to walk.

To wander.

To stand beneath the sun.

To read books.

To write.

To create.

To make art.

Being outdoors is a privilege.

Maybe lifting weights is a privilege too.

Check this out—they’ve got a gym here at the construction site.

These guys are working hard making things happen.

Movement itself is a privilege.

Simply moving your body.

Being under the sun.

Being beside the water.

Surrounding yourself with nature.

Stretching.

Drinking clean water.

Eating good food.

Having access to red meat.

Drinking raw milk.

Having enough free time to simply look up at the clouds.

To me…

This is luxury.

Luxury isn’t sitting in some ivory tower.

It isn’t unlimited television channels.

It isn’t Uber Eats.

Luxury is much closer to the earth.

It’s grounded in the simplest parts of being alive.

Gratitude

Today I’m grateful for the sun.

I’m grateful for the vitality in my body that lets me walk.

I think the biggest mindset shift is moving away from constantly chasing something…

…and instead recognizing what you already have.

This moment.

Your body.

Your consciousness.

The ability to experience.

To feel.

To think clearly.

This is what matters most to me.

Having freedom.

Freedom of time.

Freedom of mind.

And the privilege of movement.

These are the things I cherish most deeply in life.

Follow the Light

Check it out.

The geese.

You could ride the geese.

You want to be free like the birds.

Out beneath the sun.

Moving.

Living.

So I encourage you to think about what you’re grateful for.

What does privilege actually mean?

What is luxury?

I think luxury lives in the body.

Luxury is vitality.

Having energy.

Feeling powerful.

Feeling alive.

Those things elevate your mood.

They make you unstoppable.

Of course…

We’re flesh.

We’ll eventually die.

We’re imperfect creatures who make mistakes.

But when you begin from a place of physical abundance—

Deep sleep.

Vitality.

Energy.

Strength.

Everything else becomes easier.

Whatever comes your way…

You can overcome it.

So that’s the simple message today.

Grateful for the sun.

Just follow the light.

This is the answer.

Flux Archive 003 — Detach From the Outcome

What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante, currently walking around Center City Philadelphia.

Today I’ve been thinking about goals—and why the goal of your creative practice, whether you’re making photographs, videos, drawings, paintings, or sculptures, should be fulfilled within the process itself.

I think this is one of the most important mindset shifts any creative person can make.

Too often we chase the outcome.

A great photograph.

An impactful moment.

Perfect light.

Perfect composition.

Perfect timing.

But those moments are rare.

That’s not to say you can’t create meaningful work. It’s simply recognizing that the only way to arrive at those moments is to remain fully engaged in whatever it is you’re doing.

The photograph is never the goal. Presence is.

The Goal Is Movement

As a photographer, I think the ultimate goal is surprisingly simple:

Move your body.

The more you walk, the more you see.

The more you see, the more you photograph.

The more you photograph, the more curious you become.

And so I think curiosity should be our true orientation as photographers.

The goal isn’t making a masterpiece.

The goal is fulfilled through walking, exploring, noticing, and making new work.

Sometimes the greatest success isn’t the photograph you bring home.

Sometimes it’s simply that you went outside.

Curiosity Creates Longevity

I believe it takes a lot of time spent in the world before something genuinely interesting reveals itself.

That’s why curiosity matters.

Curiosity allows you to keep returning.

It gives your practice longevity.

That’s what I’ve tried to cultivate with my own work—a rhythm that’s sustainable enough to repeat every day.

Not because every day produces a great photograph.

But because every day offers another opportunity to see.

Reduce Decisions

One practical thing I’d recommend is creating a routine.

Know where you’re going.

Know where you’re walking.

Give yourself a destination or a street to follow.

When you remove unnecessary decisions, something interesting happens.

You stop hesitating.

When you stop hesitating, you stop thinking.

When you stop thinking, you start doing.

Photography is instinct.

Photography Is Physical

I also think it’s important to recognize just how physical photography really is.

Every photograph is simply the result of your position relative to the subject and the exact moment you press the shutter.

That’s it.

Photography isn’t only about seeing.

It’s about moving.

It’s about positioning yourself.

It’s about responding.

Recognizing the physicality of photography is incredibly important.

Play Instead of Performance

If you’re walking…

If you’re observing…

If you’re responding with your camera…

If you’re doing it every day with a spirit of play…

Then I genuinely believe it’s inevitable that you’ll eventually create something meaningful.

Whether that meaning is visual or emotional doesn’t really matter.

It reveals itself with time.

As artists, I think movement itself is the practice.

Whether that’s physically walking or slowly chipping away at a drawing, what matters is that you’re engaged in the act.

Even if today’s work isn’t your best.

Remove Good and Bad

The work I find most fulfilling isn’t necessarily the work that performs the best.

It’s simply the work that I genuinely enjoy looking at.

And that’s completely subjective.

When you stop labeling your work as good or bad, you create space for something authentic to emerge.

That’s where your own visual language begins.

Return to the Childlike State

Photography should feel like play.

Every morning is another opportunity to transform.

To evolve.

To change.

To remain in flux.

I genuinely believe that joy is found through movement.

Not through arriving.

You never want to feel like you’ve reached the peak.

Return to day one every day.

Remain an amateur forever.

Interestingly enough, the word amateur simply means to love.

If you continue making work because you love it—not because of money, recognition, or validation—you’ll eventually create something that’s authentically yours.

And I think that’s what we all seek as artists.

Show Up Every Day

If you’re trying to cultivate your own way of seeing…

Detach from the outcome.

Find meaning in showing up.

Walk.

Observe.

Respond.

Produce.

The act itself is enough.

The Greatest Gift

Personally, I think the greatest gift isn’t even the photographs.

It’s simply being outside.

Fresh air.

The sun on your skin.

Meeting strangers.

Looking at beautiful people.

Looking at beautiful light.

Remaining present.

From that state of presence, life occasionally delivers you something extraordinary.

Your only responsibility is to be there when it happens.

Camera in hand.

Ready to respond.

Photography Is an Excuse to Look Closely

Photography has become one of my favorite ways to experience life.

Not because of the images.

Because it gives me permission to look closely.

To notice.

To feel deeply.

The camera becomes a vessel.

Life delivers.

You respond.

That’s all there is.

The Autotelic Approach

Ultimately, I think the goal is presence.

Being aware.

Being ready.

Responding without hesitation.

Detach from the outcome.

Embrace an autotelic approach to photography, where the reward is found within the act itself.

Within the art of walking.

Within noticing.

Within photographing.

When you remove the outcome as the goal, you’ll start to feel whole.

That feeling of wholeness comes through acting.

Through moving.

Through shooting.

Through producing.

And I genuinely believe there’s no better way to spend a day than walking under the sun, playing with a camera, curious about what life might offer next.

That’s the thought of the day.

Thank you for reading.

Peace.

Flux Weekly Witness #12: Two Weeks Against Pretty (Sivert Almvik Review)

What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante.

Today we’re looking at Two Weeks Against Pretty by Sivert Almvik from Oslo, Norway. :contentReference[oaicite:0]{index=0}

Sivert submitted this project with a description explaining that he intentionally set out to make photographs he didn’t want to show anybody.

Photographs that weren’t pretty.

Photographs that weren’t well composed.

Photographs that he hated.

The goal wasn’t to make better photographs.

The goal was to challenge himself, reset the way he thinks, and become comfortable feeling like he was doing something wrong.

Alongside the work, he wrote a manifesto that I’ll include in the description of this video because I think it’s worth reading in full.

I even printed it out here so we can go through it together.

The Anti-Pretty Manifesto

Looking through the work, you immediately notice the haphazard compositions.

Tilted horizons.

Awkward framing.

Subjects pushed into the corners.

Overlapping elements.

Everything intentionally works against conventional ideas of “good” composition.

Sivert begins his manifesto by declaring:

Pretty is my opponent.

Not the technical.

Not the composed.

Not the planned.

Those are merely symptoms.

Pretty is the disease.

He continues:

The pretty is the image that asks to be liked.

The pretty is the image I dare to show.

The pretty is the image I already know works.

And for two weeks, he committed to creating photographs he did not want to show anyone.

The Rules

His project had clear constraints.

• Photograph at least five days each week.
• Shoot for a minimum of one hour every session.
• Use one camera: the Nikon Zf.
• Use one lens: the 28mm.
• No other cameras.
• No other focal lengths.
• Never look at the rear screen during a session.
• Don’t delete photographs until the project is complete.
• Walk unfamiliar routes—or familiar routes at unfamiliar times.
• Get closer than feels comfortable.
• Don’t make photographs you already know will work.
• Accept incorrect exposure, focus, and framing as equal outcomes.

He also committed to publishing the work regardless of whether he considered it successful.

The final oath is probably my favorite part:

I swear not to call this an experiment if it fails.

It is a project.

Projects can be bad.

Projects can fail.

Projects can still stand.

Breaking Your Own Habits

This project really resonated with me because it aligns closely with my own philosophy around Flux.

It’s about embracing imperfection.

Detaching from the outcome.

Not trying to impress yourself or anyone else.

At the end of the day, we all know what makes a technically good photograph.

We’ve studied the masters.

We’ve seen the great photobooks.

We understand composition.

We understand light.

We understand timing.

But sometimes all of that knowledge becomes a prison.

When you’ve photographed for long enough, it’s easy to fall into routines.

You know where to stand.

You know what time the light arrives.

You know how to make photographs that work.

And sometimes the only way forward is to intentionally forget everything you know.

To play.

To experiment.

To become uncomfortable again.

Finding Something New

Take this photograph of the dog.

On the surface, it feels awkward.

The subject is pushed into the corner of the frame.

It’s not particularly dramatic.

But there are still interesting qualities here.

The leading lines.

The tension created by using the corner of the frame.

The unusual distribution of space.

Maybe these are compositional ideas that never would have emerged if he had been trying to make the perfect photograph.

That’s what I appreciate about this project.

It’s not about making bad photographs.

It’s about discovering possibilities you normally ignore.

Instinct Over Hesitation

One frame that really stood out to me features a mural looking across the frame while a man casually touches his face.

The tension between those two gestures immediately caught my attention.

Then a few photographs later…

There’s another frame that completely surprised me.

Honestly, I think this became my favorite photograph in the sequence.

At first glance it feels messy.

Tilted.

Layered.

Imperfect.

But when you slow down and actually study it, there’s an incredible amount happening.

The silhouette in the foreground pulls you into the scene.

The sidewalk guides your eye toward the center.

A man walks perfectly through the frame with his arms extended.

Groups of people occupy different layers.

Negative space balances the density of information on the opposite side.

Despite intentionally abandoning formal composition, the photograph somehow becomes incredibly formal.

That’s exactly what happens when you stop trying so hard.

Sometimes your instincts produce something far more interesting than your intentions.

The Surprise of Play

That’s the beauty of embracing imperfection.

You surprise yourself.

You stop trying to control every outcome.

You simply position your body somewhere in the world…

…and say yes.

Click the shutter.

You never really know what might align.

Some of my favorite photographs have happened exactly like that.

Not because I planned them.

But because I was open enough to receive them.

Letting the Frame Breathe

There are other moments throughout the project that really work.

Slow shutter speeds.

Filled frames.

Unexpected gestures.

Even the final photograph of the Oslo sign contains little compositional surprises.

The tree stump isn’t centered.

The umbrella creates an unexpected relationship.

The dark and light areas repeat throughout the frame, creating a subtle rhythm.

These aren’t necessarily photographs you would intentionally compose.

But that’s exactly why they’re interesting.

Why This Project Matters

I genuinely think Two Weeks Against Pretty is a powerful exercise.

Not because every photograph succeeds.

But because the project succeeds.

Giving yourself a manifesto.

Creating strict constraints.

Deliberately going against everything you’ve previously considered good photography.

That’s an incredible way to reshape your vision.

Sometimes you don’t need another camera.

Or another lens.

Or another photobook.

Sometimes you simply need permission to make work you aren’t proud of.

Because somewhere inside those imperfect photographs…

…you might discover something entirely your own.

---

Huge thanks to Sivert for sharing this work.

I’ll leave a link in the description so you can read the manifesto yourself, view the complete project, and even download the catalog.

If you’d like to submit your own work, head over to Flux, click the Tools tab, and generate your own zine.

Submit 36 photographs, and if I review and accept the work, it’ll be added to the catalog and you’ll be invited into the Flux Discord community.

Otherwise, you can always click Join here on YouTube to become part of the community directly.

I’m looking forward to seeing more submissions.

Thank you for watching.

I’ll see you in the next video.

Peace.

Why I Print Every Photo I Take (The Simple Workflow That Changed My Photography)

What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante.

Today I want to share with you the power of printing your photography.

A lot of photographers today are simply making pictures and posting them on Instagram. While that’s how we share our work now, I think there’s something to be said about the tangibility of flipping through your photography physically.

Personally, I’ve found a workflow that makes printing effortless—and because of that, I actually print my work all the time.

I Prefer Cheap Copy Paper

The way I enjoy looking at my photographs might surprise you.

I genuinely enjoy looking through my work printed on cheap copy paper.

Regular printer paper.
A monochrome LaserJet printer.
Nothing fancy.

I love the imperfections of the prints. There’s something aesthetically beautiful about the way high-contrast black and white photography renders on inexpensive office paper.

This has become my personal workflow.

Simplicity Changed Everything

Because I’ve simplified my photography down to high-contrast black and white, printing became incredibly easy.

I no longer depend on my Canon Pro-1000 every time I want to hold my work in my hands.

With color photography, printing becomes almost a science.

You have to think about:

• ICC profiles
• Paper types
• Color rendering
• Processing
• Test prints

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.

It’s an incredible craft.

But for me?

I wanted something frictionless.

Print-on-Demand Still Has Value

I’ve also made books through Blurb using their standard black and white trade paper.

They’re great.

The matte finish feels nice.
The books are enjoyable to hold.
They have imperfections.

And honestly…

I like that.

But even after making professionally bound books, I still enjoy looking at my work on simple printer paper more than anything else.

DIY Sketchbooks

Another thing I love doing is making little sketchbooks.

They’re small enough to slip into a pocket.

If I meet another photographer—or someone interested in what I do—I can simply hand them the book.

The way I make these is incredibly simple.

I use a Canon Selphy CP1500, printing eight photographs onto a single 4×6 sheet.

They’re quick.
They’re portable.
They’re fun to share.

The Brother Laser Printer

For most of my printing I use a monochrome Brother LaserJet.

Inside it?

Just regular office paper.

Premium Bright Copy Paper.
500 sheets.
20-pound paper.

It’s incredibly cheap.

Honestly…

You can’t get much simpler than black toner on office paper.

And that’s what makes it liberating.

Small JPEGs Are Enough

One thing that still surprises me is how well my workflow scales.

For the past four years I’ve been shooting:

• Small JPEGs
• High contrast
• Maximum grit and grain
• Straight out of camera

No RAW files.

Each image is only around 4 MB.

Yet I can still print those files on large 17×24 inch paper using the Canon Pro-1000 and get beautiful results.

Even photographs made in low light…
Even blurry images…
Even dusty files…

I leave all the imperfections.

I genuinely don’t care.

Once you find the kind of print you actually enjoy looking at, you stop worrying about perfection and start making more work.

My Favorite Format

At the end of the day…

I still prefer looking at my photographs as DIY zines.

That’s how I experience my work.

So I built a complete system around that idea.

The Flux Generator

On my website I built something called the Flux Generator.

You simply:

1. Drag in 36 photographs
2. Enter your issue title
3. Enter your name
4. Generate a PDF instantly

Every image is:

• Captioned automatically
• Includes the date and time
• Sequenced chronologically

I love looking through my work in the order I experienced life.

That’s how I relive those moments.

Using AI to Build Better Photography Systems

One of the coolest things I’ve built recently came from working with Claude Code.

I created a contact sheet system containing every photograph I’ve made over the past four years.

Each printed page contains:

• Six photographs
• A QR code for every image

Now I can physically flip through thousands of photographs…

Then instantly scan any image to view the original digital file.

The archive itself is generated automatically.

My images live inside an Amazon S3 bucket.
Claude Code builds the static website.
Everything stays synchronized.

I simply told Claude what I wanted.

It built the system.

That idea alone completely changed how I browse my archive.

Blending Physical and Digital

One thing I keep thinking about is how to blend physical media with digital archives.

Printing is wonderful.

Digital searching is wonderful.

Why not combine both?

That’s exactly what this workflow does.

Browse physically.

Retrieve digitally.

Print however you want.

Whether that’s:

• A large Pro-1000 print
• A LaserJet zine
• Something completely different

Everything flows together.

Letting People Curate My Photography

Another thing I’ve added to my website is something I think is pretty fun.

Every photograph in my archive can be added to a cart.

When someone selects 36 photographs…

They can generate their own customized zine from my work.

They’re effectively sequencing the book themselves.

It’s a fun way to relinquish control and let the viewer become part of the creative process.

Open-Source Photography

I believe in open-source photography.

That’s a very different philosophy from traditional photography where ownership and exclusivity are emphasized.

My thinking is different.

We live in a brave new digital world.

I want to embrace openness.

Every project I publish includes:

• A flip-through video
• The downloadable PDF
• The original JPEG files
• Everything needed to print the work yourself

I am the gatekeeper, and the gates are open.

If you enjoy the work…

Download it.

Print it.

Share it.

It’s really not that deep for me.

I simply enjoy making the books.

Sustainable Creativity

What excites me most isn’t the technology.

It’s sustainability.

I’ve removed nearly all the repetitive work.

The sequencing.
The captions.
The formatting.

Software handles all of it.

Now all I have to do is:

• Click a button
• Print the pages
• Add two staples

Done.

That means I actually keep making books.

Beyond Photography

I’ve started applying this philosophy elsewhere too.

I’m experimenting with:

• Burning DVDs of my video work
• Building physical cases for the DVDs
• Viewing work on CRT televisions
• Using Raspberry Pi installations

I’m also carrying around a thermal label printer that instantly prints photo stickers.

Now if someone wants to see my work…

I simply hand them a sticker.

Physical media feels exciting again.

Stop Chasing Perfect Prints

Because my workflow is built around high-contrast black and white, almost everything looks good.

Cheap paper.

Fancy paper.

Thermal stickers.

T-shirts.

Large gallery prints.

It all works.

That’s an incredibly empowering place to create from.

You’re no longer obsessed with paper choice or technical perfection.

You’re simply making photographs.

Printing them.

Living with them.

And sharing them.

That’s all I really wanted to share today.

I’m getting a call from my brother—we’re going to head out and explore.

Thanks for watching.

I’ll see you soon.