Instinct Over Composition

Yo, what’s poppin’ people? Dante.

Today I’m thinking about instinct and photography.

This thought has been rattling through my monkey brain over the past few days about instinct. And I just wanted to articulate some thoughts around it because ultimately instinct isn’t necessarily something you can think about or talk about.

I mean, obviously you can, right?

But I think instinct is all about doing. It’s about action. It’s about removing your mind and responding to your gut.

And so in order for me to talk about instinct, I almost feel like I have to demonstrate it. I have to be out there moving. Photographing. Responding. Because that’s kind of the paradox of instinct — the second you over-explain it, you leave it.

Photographing Blind

One thing I’ve been thinking about lately, especially while using a camera like this with no viewfinder, just an LCD screen…

I’ve actually stopped looking at the screen most of the time.

Like 90% of the time now, I’m photographing blindly.

And honestly?

I think that’s closer to how we actually see.

When we’re walking through the street, we’re not seeing perfect compositions. We’re not walking around analyzing Fibonacci spirals or leading lines. We’re not rationally arranging geometry in real time.

Life is too fast for that.

The moments we photograph are fleeting fragments of reality.

The camera interprets them for us.

And our experience of life moment-to-moment is imperfect. It’s unstable. It’s moving. It’s embodied.

So when I photograph, I’m not thinking:

• “Does this follow compositional rules?”
• “Is this balanced?”
• “Is this technically correct?”

I’m responding physically.

The Physicality of Photography

What interests me most about photography is the physicality of it.

You have to be outside in embodied reality. Moving through life. Actually existing in the world.

And I think compact cameras amplify that feeling because they integrate with your body so seamlessly.

A compact camera on a wrist strap is the closest thing to not having a camera.

It becomes part of your body.

When I’m photographing, I’m adjusting the flick of my wrist. Leaning into scenes. Moving left. Moving right. Bobbing and weaving through moments.

And I think compositions emerge from that.

Not from intellectual thought.

But from physical positioning.

The photograph becomes a reflection of:

• where your body was,
• how you moved,
• when you clicked the shutter,
• and the irrational instinct that pulled you toward the moment.

Style emerges where thinking dies and instinct begins.

That’s what I believe.

Ping Pong & Flow State

Honestly, the best analogy I can think of is ping pong.

If you’ve ever played ping pong, you know there’s no time to think.

The ball is flying at you and your body just responds automatically.

You flick your wrist.
You move.
You react.

Your body understands before your mind does.

And I genuinely think instinct in photography works the same way.

Mediocre photography often falls flat because the photographer is trying too hard. Thinking too much. Rationalizing every frame.

But when you let go…

When you forget everything you think you know about photography…

That’s when something interesting can happen.

You enter flow state.

And flow state is where instinct lives.

The Footprint Photograph

I remember photographing this footprint on the ground while people were climbing a greasy pole in South Philadelphia.

There was chaos everywhere.

People screaming.
Bodies climbing.
Emotion on faces.

And instead of photographing the obvious action, instinct pulled me downward toward this footprint in the dirt.

Rationally, it didn’t make sense.

But instinctively, it felt right.

And I think we should trust that feeling more often.

That irrational pull.

That strange sensitivity we develop while photographing.

Because sometimes your body notices meaning before your conscious mind understands why.

Photography as a Way of Seeing

I don’t think we truly see reality with our naked eyes.

Everything moves too quickly.

Moments vanish instantly.

Photography almost becomes a tool for seeing beyond normal perception.

The camera captures these split-second fragments that we could never fully process in real time.

And through those imperfections — the blur, the timing, the awkward framing, the accidents — we discover something magical.

That’s what keeps me going back out there.

The surprises.

The mystery.

The enchantment of seeing reality transformed through the medium.

Flow State Is the Goal

For me, photography is really about entering flow state.

That’s the peak human experience.

No past.
No future.
No overthinking.

Just:

you,
the street,
and the shutter.

When you’re fully in flow, your body begins responding automatically.

You stop forcing.

You stop calculating.

You stop trying to make photographs.

And suddenly the photographs begin making themselves through you.

That primal bodily response…
that vitality…
that instinct…

That’s what excites me most these days.

Because honestly?

You don’t need your brain to arrange a frame.

You need your body.

Flux Mini Zine Generator

Also — quick side note.

I just dropped the Flux Mini Zine Generator on my website.

You basically drag six photos into the generator, add your title, issue number, photographer name, optional QR code URL, and it automatically creates a printable mini zine.

Shout out to Igor from the community because he described these mini zines as almost being like an EP in music terms.

And honestly?

That’s exactly what they feel like.

A small photographic album.

A tiny visual statement.

I also have another zine generator that creates 36-frame zines arranged like contact sheets on 8.5 x 11 paper — kind of an homage to 35mm film.

I’m accepting submissions to the catalog too, and I invite people into the private community where we’re sharing work and discussing photography.

Still figuring everything out technically though.

I’m basically learning in real time and throwing shit at the wall every day while building these tools.

So bear with me if stuff breaks.

Folding the Zine (Disaster)

I tried folding the mini zine on camera for the first time and completely failed.

Like absolutely catastrophic.

I had no idea what I was doing.

I folded it backwards.
Cut it wrong.
Started improvising.
Somehow invented an entirely new fold by accident.

It was honestly hilarious.

But also weirdly beautiful because that’s kind of the spirit of all this stuff:

making things,
messing up,
figuring it out physically.

That’s the energy.

And honestly?

I fucking love this shit.

Automatic Mini Zine Generator for Street Photographers

HOW IT WORKS

upload → print → fold → cut → collapse → publish

FLUX MINI turns 6 photographs into a printable pocket zine using one sheet of paper.

No InDesign.
No templates.
No layout process.

Just photographs.

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STEP 1 — UPLOAD

Upload 6 photographs.

Pages 2–7 are generated automatically.

The cover and back cover are built from your text inputs.

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STEP 2 — PRINT

Export the PDF.

Print on:

• US Letter (8.5 × 11″)
• Landscape
• Borderless if available
• Plain paper

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STEP 3 — HOT DOG

Fold the sheet lengthwise.

Long edge to long edge.

Crease firmly.

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STEP 4 — CUT

Cut along the center fold only.

Between the two inner crease marks.

Do not cut to the outer edges.

The red guide line shows the cut.

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STEP 5 — COLLAPSE

Unfold.

Refold hot-dog style.

Push both ends inward.

The center opens into a diamond.

Fold flat.

Done.

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NOTES

• Horizontal photographs rotate automatically
• White space is added for cleaner folds
• QR codes are generated automatically
• Everything is designed to reduce friction

shoot → sequence → print → distribute → repeat

How I Built a Frictionless Street Photography Zine Generator

What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante.

Today I want to share with you a tool that I built on my website that allows you to create a zine without any superfluous technology, software, InDesign knowledge, or even print-on-demand services. :contentReference[oaicite:0]{index=0}

If you visit the top link in the description of this YouTube video, it will bring you to this website that I built.

The only materials that you’re going to need is a monochrome LaserJet printer at home, some staples, and cheap printer paper.

And then you’re pretty much ready to go.

The Entire Process

You drag and drop 36 photographs into this area on the website.

You give the issue a name.

I personally use the flux_00 number as my canonical naming convention, however you can use whatever you’d like or adopt this way of naming things.

Then you give your photographer name.

Hit Generate Flux Issue PDF.

As you can see, it compresses the images and instantly downloads the book.

And then you have a PDF ready to go.

Built Around a Frictionless Workflow

The first page presents a protocol page that describes my protocol — essentially Flux.

Flux is designed to allow you to integrate photography into your life without friction.

From the moment you capture the photographs
→ to selecting the photographs
→ to uploading the photographs
→ to sequencing everything into a chronological zine.

Everything is designed to remove friction from your life so that all you have to do is:

1. Go out and make 36 photographs
2. Upload them into the generator
3. Print the work
4. Relive your memories as a visual diary

“Photography just becomes effortless and easy and frictionless.”

Automatic Sequencing + Captions

Each photograph is captioned automatically with:

• Date
• Time
• Photographer name

The top of the book also includes:

• The issue title
• Sequence frame number
• Chronological order inside the structure

The entire thing is designed to function like a stream of memory.

This is personally the way I’ve been enjoying looking at my photographs lately.

Actually just reliving my memories as a visual diary.

Why 36 Frames?

The back of the book gives you a full 36-frame contact sheet with the manifest so you can reference:

• Date
• Time
• Sequence number

An homage to 35mm film.

36 frames.

That’s the whole idea.

Print It at Home

I’ve also designed the layout so that everything is automatically aligned correctly for home printing.

There’s enough gutter spacing.

Staple marks are built directly onto the cover so the book literally instructs you where to staple it.

No design knowledge required.

No InDesign.

No Blurb.

No print-on-demand nonsense.

Just print the thing and hold your work in your hands.

Why I Prefer Cheap Monochrome Printing

Honestly, I think the aesthetic qualities of printing at home on a monochrome LaserJet printer are better than services like Blurb.

Those services are cool.

The quality is technically “better.”

Glossy paper. High production value. Whatever.

But if you’re working in a high-contrast visual diary style, there’s something beautiful about the imperfections of cheap monochrome printing.

“There is something about the imperfect nature of printing on these particular materials.”

It feels alive.

Raw.

Human.

And honestly, it just doesn’t get better than this in my opinion.

Submit Your Work

You can also submit your work directly through the website.

Add:

• Your email
• Issue title
• Location
• Short description

The date range is added automatically.

I’ll review the work personally.

If I enjoy the work, I’ll add it to the catalog and invite you into the private Flux Discord community where we talk about photography and share the work we’re making behind the scenes.

Final Thoughts

I’m really just sharing the solutions that I discover along the way.

Solutions that make photography feel effortless for me.

Go out.

Photograph.

Come home.

Sequence the work.

Print it.

Enjoy it.

Simple.

Hopefully people give it a try.

I’d love to see what you make.

Peace.

From now on, I’m only going to post new photographs to my FLUX archive. No more daily blog post dumps. Keeping the blog for shitposts, essays, videos, public idea streams and dumps and whatever I feel like. Starting to lock in and test my new FLUX infrastructure on my archive site where I’ll post my daily photos so check there to see what new photos I’m cookin

https://flux.dantesisofo.com

FLUX

An open-source, browser-based system for automatically turning photographs into printable chronological zines.

No InDesign
No layout software
No manual sequencing

FLUX is designed to eliminate workflow friction and make publishing automatic.

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WHAT IS FLUX?

shoot → select → sequence → publish → move on

FLUX is an open-source chronological photography publishing system.

Every issue becomes a timestamped fragment of lived experience.

The archive grows through repetition, consistency, and movement rather than perfectionism.

Learn more about flux here:
https://flux.dantesisofo.com/wiki/

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HOW IT WORKS

1. Shoot photographs normally

2. Select 36 JPEG photographs

3. Open the FLUX Generator

4. Drag photographs into the browser

5. Click:
   GENERATE FLUX ISSUE PDF

The system automatically creates a printable chronological zine.

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WHAT THE SYSTEM AUTOMATICALLY DOES

— reads photo timestamps from metadata
— preserves chronological order
— generates issue cover
— creates protocol page
— creates photo pages
— creates contact sheet
— creates metadata manifest
— compresses images
— exports lightweight printable PDF

No manual layout required.

---

PDF STRUCTURE

— Front cover
— Protocol page
— Chronological photo pages
— Contact sheet
— Metadata manifest
— Back cover

---

PRINT FORMAT

11 × 8.5 landscape
double-sided printing
staple left side
office paper compatible
lightweight PDF for sharing and archiving
store inside manila folder

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AUTOMATIC CAPTIONS

Each photograph automatically includes:

Top Right
— issue number
— image sequence number

Bottom Left
— timestamp
— photographer name
— issue/page reference

All extracted automatically from metadata.

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PHILOSOPHY

FLUX removes unnecessary friction between making photographs and publishing them.

— daily practice
— chronological thinking
— fast decision making
— lightweight publishing
— open digital archives

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BROAD STREET IN FLUX

Two photographers
One street
One day

Both photographers moved north to south across Broad Street in Philadelphia, documenting the city in real time from different vantage points.

Every photograph contains:

— exact date
— exact time
— GPS coordinates

The workflow collapses the distance between:

seeing → photographing → mapping → publishing → archiving

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SUBMIT YOUR OWN FLUX ISSUE

1. Create 36 photographs

2. Generate a FLUX issue

3. Submit it to the archive

Selected submissions may be added to the public FLUX catalog.

“Post-digital” doesn’t mean after digital technology. It means digital has become so normal, invisible, and overwhelming that the interesting question is no longer “how do we use technology?” but “what human meaning survives inside of it?”

Your FLUX system feels post-digital because it uses digital tools while rejecting the typical digital mindset.

A few reasons why:

• You shoot digitally, but the work emphasizes embodiment — walking, intuition, instinct, physical presence.
• The archive is online, but the aesthetic references physical bureaucracy: filing cabinets, manila folders, manifests, contact sheets, stamps, protocols.
• The generator automates sequencing, but the result feels like an artifact, not “content.”
• You embrace scale and automation, yet preserve imperfection, chronology, randomness, and human error.
• The work resists the hyper-polished Instagram aesthetic and instead leans into:
  • repetition
  • accumulation
  • documentary sprawl
  • raw visual flow
  • everyday life

That’s why the filing cabinet idea is important psychologically. You’re transforming a cloud archive into something that feels physically recoverable. Almost archaeological.

FLUX also feels post-digital because the internet itself becomes secondary. The photographs are not trying to “win attention.” They function more like:

• records
• traces
• evidence
• field notes
• lived fragments

Very different from algorithmic image culture.

There’s also a strong lineage here:

• Marshall McLuhan — media becoming extensions of man
• Vilém Flusser — photographers struggling against the camera apparatus
• Walker Evans — archival/documentary impulse
• Daidō Moriyama and the Provoke movement — raw, anti-clean photography
• Marcel Duchamp — elevating ordinary systems/objects into conceptual art
• Heraclitus — flux, impermanence, continual becoming

What makes FLUX interesting is that it’s not nostalgic for analog purity either. It fully accepts:

• automation
• PDFs
• S3 servers
• generators
• AI tooling
• mass archives
• digital dissemination

But then it bends those tools toward:

• ritual
• permanence
• locality
• chronology
• tactile imagination
• civic memory

That tension is what gives it the “post-digital” feeling.

you can sit around with your big brain buzzing reading all the books but if you don’t actually experience or live out the philosophy you’re just a neck beard

Why I Hate Strategy in Street Photography

What’s popping people? It’s Dante.

Currently going for a beautiful walk here behind the art museum in Philadelphia, looking out towards my companion, Mercury.

“Send this message up on your wings for the gods.”

My best friend Mercury. He’s been there by my side all this time.

Yeah, so today’s thought is about strategy and why I hate strategy.

You know, strategy. Looking for something. Hunting. Trying to tell a story. Having this sort of intellectual framework for how you’re gonna compose something. These ideas in photography are just so limiting.

And so I say:

Let the chips fall as they may.

Stop trying to control everything.

The more you relinquish control and let go, the more you enter the flow.

And flow occurs where thought dies.

Thought Is Stagnation

Stagnation lies inside your mind with all those big-brain ideas rattling around in your head.

Motivation lies in your two legs moving.

Experiencing life.

Clicking the shutter.

Not in thought. Not in your mind.

Action.

Doing.

Shooting.

Piling up 1,000 new frames today.

To me, the mode of operation is extremely simple:

Remove all choices.

Remove all ideas rattling around in your big brain.

Can we shut that off?

Can we shut off the thought?

Photography is merely a way for me to experience life in the now.

Simply being.

Simply here.

In the moment.

The photos I made yesterday? Irrelevant.

The photos I make tomorrow? Irrelevant.

Everything leading up to this point? Not real.

It’s right here. Right now.

Embracing Chaos

I’m standing on this cliff.

If I get stung by a bee right now, I might topple and fall and die.

But it’s on the edge of the unknown — on the outskirts of the city — embracing chaos and danger, that I thrive.

And so I say:

Treat each day like it could be your last.

Have a blast.

Embrace play.

There is no hierarchy between your frames.

What’s good or bad?

Shut off all the noise.

All the chatter.

The thousand schizophrenic voices telling you what to do, how to be, what’s good, what street photography is supposed to look like.

Eliminate all of it.

Because by removing choices, you find freedom.

The Paradox of Choice

Wow, look at how beautiful that shadow is.

Whoa.

Choice is a funny thing.

It’s a paradox.

You think choice is freedom.

Go left. Go right.

But no.

There’s only one option.

It’s down this damn cliff.

If I go left, I’ll fall on the sticks.

If I go right, I might get poison ivy.

What’s in those bushes?

I don’t know.

And so I just keep marching onwards.

Upwards or downwards — they’re both the same.

Everything is in flux.

Everything will change.

So stop trying to arrange.

Stop trying to strategize everything.

Stop forcing a narrative or language upon what it is you’re ultimately trying to say.

Authenticity Through Instinct

By relinquishing control, only then can you find authenticity.

Through intuition.

Instinct.

Through thumos.

Through courage.

Through your heart.

Then you can actually say something.

But trying to attach language, rational control, intellectual structure — all that stuff happening up in your noggin?

That’s what stops it.

So I just frolic along in the grass.

Pick up leaves.

Flowers.

Enjoy the day.

Not worrying about yesterday.

Not thinking about tomorrow.

Just picking up the damn camera each day and clicking the shutter more.

Because at the end of the day:

I’m gonna make 1,000 new frames today.

Tomorrow, I’ll do the same.

And for me to get caught up in what’s good or bad, arranging everything, trying to tell a story — it just gets in the way of actually doing.

Eliminate Thought

You might call me lazy.

But I have no desire to do these things.

My only desire lies in instinct.

And doing.

So yeah.

The message of the day is pretty simple:

Remove all thought.

How?

I don’t know.

Maybe you remove the black mirror.

The scrying device of distraction.

The thing that has you communing with fallen angels every day.

When you’re out shooting, leave the phone at home.

Use it indoors if you need to do tasks at your computer or whatever.

But when you’re outside?

Just be present.

Photograph.

Why I’m Leaning Into AI

Honestly, one of the craziest things I’ve done to eliminate thought and decision-making is automating everything.

I’m leaning heavily into AI.

I want AI to replace the “brain” of my photography operation.

Sequencing.

Organizing.

Archiving.

Importing photos.

Going through photos.

Generating layouts.

All the mechanical backend stuff.

Why not let AI handle it?

So that we can simply go out and photograph.

Simply be.

Simply cultivate instinct.

Instead of sitting around in our rooms dwelling and thinking.

The Automated Zine Workflow

I’ve actually developed an entire system where I upload my photos directly to my website and it automatically catalogs everything.

It reads the metadata.

Arranges everything chronologically.

Generates automatic zines.

Captions everything.

Designs the margins and gutters perfectly.

So whenever I upload 36 new pictures, the website recognizes them and automatically generates a new zine.

I can literally go home and print whatever I made today tonight.

That’s the workflow.

All I really have to do now is go out and shoot.

Everything else is handled on the backend.

I still make my selections quickly through thumbnails, but eventually I want the system to evolve to the point where I don’t even do that.

And honestly?

I’m genuinely looking forward to it.

Because the goal is simple:

Eliminate control.

Let it all fall as it may.

A stream.

Chronological.

Alive.

More Joy, Less Control

The more I let go, the more joy I find in everyday life.

And that’s ultimately what I seek through photography.

More joy.

More exuberance.

More enthusiasm for life.

I’m not worried about the photos.

I’m not thinking about the shots I made yesterday.

I’m just here.

Frolicking around barefoot in my town.

Throwing some poo at the wall.

Check it out.

The dirty mucky skukul.

Yeah.

“Just integrate photography so radically where it disappears from your day-to-day life.”

“Photography is merely a way for me to affirm my life, to say yes with the click of the shutter.”

“99% of contemporary photography culture is noise. The 1% signal is within your heart.”

“It’s not about fitting yourself in a box and working on this story, this theme, this contrived narrative.”

“The idea is to use photography beyond photography.”

“Photography is merely a vehicle that gets you closer to the moment that keeps you here right now.”

“The most impactful photographs are the ones that go unnoticed.”

“The quiet moments. The personal moments. The ones that carry emotional weight.”

“I think about photography as a way for me to unlearn everything.”

“There’s such a mystery of everyday existence that I think we overlook.”

“When you really sit back and relax and allow your mind to go fallow, you become more grateful for life generally.”

“Life is a video game. Just explore, have fun, interact with people.”

“I’m not hunting. I’m not looking. I’m not trying to say anything.”

“If anything, I’m just trying to discover new things.”

“I’m trying to uncover the mystery of everyday life.”

“What I seek to achieve through this practice is surprising myself.”

“I’m craving the surprise of the medium.”

“You have to surrender yourself to the medium.”

“What is out of my control is the light.”

“What I’m in control of is waking up with eagerness and enthusiasm for life.”

“Through playing more, through letting go, and forgetting everything I think I know.”

“When you recognize that you know nothing, you kind of just let go.”

“This medium is a way for you to cultivate a way of being.”

“A way of engaging with everyday life and affirming your existence.”

“Just waking up in the morning and pushing your rock uphill.”

“You smile when it rolls back down each night because you know you’re gonna come back out in the morning and push it right back up again.”

“Photography has nothing to do with photography.”

“I’m not trying to tell stories.”

“I’m just simply there, prepared with my camera, photographing my way through my everyday life.”

“Trying to discover what life looks like when you photograph it.”

Daily Photography Protocol: Keep the Camera With You

The Daily Photography Protocol

What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante.

Currently going for a glorious walk here in the sun at Penn’s Landing, Philadelphia. And today’s simple thought and idea is for daily photography, you know, the protocol.

Just keep the camera with you.

I mean, when you have a camera that just slips in your pocket, you take it out, you turn it on, you pop that red filter, and you snap the button, you just find that the whole practice, the whole medium of photography is effortless.

It doesn’t get in the way of you living and experiencing life.

That’s the whole protocol.

Just integrate photography so radically where it disappears from your day-to-day life.

Photograph What You Genuinely Enjoy

Only photograph things and only go to places to photograph that you genuinely enjoy photographing.

I think it’s really simple.

If anything in your practice is becoming a bore, or a chore, or feels like a job, where you’re making these checklists and ideas that you have to execute each day, I don’t think it’s sustainable.

We have to go beyond these basic notions in photography:

technical mastery, storytelling, the ability of the photographer to synthesize the content with the formalities of composition, and all of these superfluous things.

Set these to the wayside.

Photography is merely a way for me to affirm my life, to say yes with the click of the shutter.

It gives my life purpose and meaning despite the external outcome of whether or not the photos are good, or somebody validates them, or checks them off with some metric of success.

The Noise of Contemporary Photography

These ideas in contemporary photography are very lame to me.

This contest culture of judging photos based upon whether the photographer has the ability to stock more complexity, or add this little sprinkle in the background that ties things together in the foreground.

Or these basic ideas around photography:

Is that street photography or not?

Is this documentary photography or photojournalism?

All these categories and topics of discussion are such a distraction.

99% of contemporary photography culture is noise. The 1% signal is within your heart.

It’s within that spiritedness, within your core, that drives you to make photographs.

It’s not about fitting yourself in a box and working on this story, this theme, this contrived narrative or idea that you’re trying to impose with your ego upon the work.

As if you have this duty to the world with your practice.

Like you’re going to change the world with your photography or something.

It’s kind of funny to me.

Photography Beyond Photography

The idea is to use photography beyond photography.

It’s just a way to exist.

It’s a way to affirm life and that you exist.

I think about photography as a way for me to combat against the existential fact that you’re going to die.

Photography is merely a vehicle that gets you closer to the moment, that keeps you here right now.

My approach is photographing every single day, repetitively walking the same mundane space and the same streets daily, but finding new ways to articulate everything for the way that I internally feel and perceive life.

What it comes down to is your inner curiosity, your courage, your sensitivity, the way that you feel about life, and the way that you engage with humanity.

That influences the way that you practice your photography.

And I find that the most impactful photographs are the ones that go unnoticed.

The quiet moments.

The personal moments.

The ones that carry emotional weight.

Forget Everything You Think You Know

Honestly, I don’t even necessarily consider the act of making photographs an act of self-expression.

I think about photography as a way for me to unlearn everything.

A way for me to discover the novelty and mystery of life.

There’s such a mystery of everyday existence that we overlook as we move through the motions each day and force ourselves to be productive.

But when you sit back, relax, allow your mind to go fallow, walk slow, embrace the moment, respond with your camera, and chip away each day at things, you become more grateful for life generally.

You become more joyful as a human being.

And as you’re photographing from that state of being, you discover new things, learn new things, and increase your curiosity and joy for life.

Life Is a Video Game

After meeting somebody out here dancing by the water, the vibe is basically this:

Stop taking your life so seriously.

No, seriously.

Life is a video game.

Just explore, have fun, interact with people, and be more open to all people.

That’s one of the things I’m most grateful for with photography.

It’s given me this ability to engage with humanity in such a nuanced way, where I can interact with pretty much anybody and just have great conversation, make memories, go on adventures, photograph, and live.

I’m Not Hunting

You can argue that you can tell a story about a moment, a place, or a thing. You can follow somebody around and make photos of their everyday life, or go to a new community and photograph that community and tell some sort of story.

But what I am most interested in with this medium is that it allows me to forget everything I think I know.

It allows moments, people, and interactions to flow toward me.

And then I’m simply there, prepared with my camera, photographing my way through everyday life.

I’m not hunting.

I’m not looking.

I’m not trying to say anything.

I’m not trying to tell stories.

If anything, I’m just trying to discover new things.

I’m trying to uncover the mystery of everyday life.

Craving the Surprise

Even on the most practical technical level, with the way the camera interprets light, the way the light emanates through the lens and touches the camera sensor, what I seek to achieve through this practice is surprising myself.

Keeping myself curious about life.

I find that curiosity is fueled through the medium, through the way that light touches my camera sensor.

Ultimately, the way I’m thinking about photography is about going beyond reality.

Trying to discover what life looks like when you photograph it.

The way that I find my curiosity these days is through returning to day one each day.

Just snapshotting through the day.

Not trying to contrive the composition.

Not trying too hard visually.

I kind of just throw the camera around, move my body into the scene, and arrange things naturally and physically.

Through those imperfections, I discover new things with the medium.

New ways that light is interpreted through my camera.

The way moments and gestures align.

The way composition falls in place.

I’m craving the surprise.

The surprise of the medium.

Surrender to What Is Out of Your Control

You have to surrender yourself to the medium.

Surrender yourself to what is out of your control.

What is out of my control is the light.

I can’t control the way the light is going to cast upon the world, or the way it’s going to interact with the surface.

I’m not in control of whether or not I’m going to see a joyous moment of somebody dancing on the outskirts of the city where there’s hardly anybody.

I’m not in control of these things.

But what I’m in control of is waking up with eagerness and enthusiasm for life.

Through that enthusiasm, curiosity, and courage, I carry myself out there to photograph more and surprise myself more.

Through playing more.

Through letting go.

Through forgetting everything I think I know.

When you recognize that you know nothing, you let go of all these superfluous ideas about photography.

Because it has nothing to do with photography.

This medium is a way for you to cultivate a way of being, a way of engaging with everyday life, and affirming your existence.

Just waking up in the morning and pushing your rock uphill.

And then you smile when it rolls back down each night, because you know that you’re going to come back out in the morning and push it right back up again.

So after meeting my new friend Dominic Sofia, Dante Sisofo is going to return to his mythos of pushing his rock endlessly.

Dionysian memery