Ricoh GRIV Monochrome: The Closest Thing to Not Having a Camera

What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante.

Today we’re going to be looking at some photographs I made recently with my Ricoh GR4 Monochrome. We’ll be diving into the photos and looking at the camera in its everyday practical function on the streets.

And yeah — just diving into it.

The Zen of the Ricoh

Firstly, I want to discuss the camera itself.

I find that this may just be the most innovative, interesting camera ever created since the conception of photography. I think about Niepce inventing this thing with chemistry. I think about Atget lugging around a big wooden bellows camera with a rectilinear lens on a tripod in 19th century Paris.

And I just think… what would he do with a compact point-and-shoot that you can carry around with you?

Not to mention the built-in image stabilization that allows you to basically be a human tripod. You can shoot in low light. You can shoot with 25,600 ISO straight out of the box.

One of the most surprising things I noticed was that when you get the camera, the minimum ISO is set to 160 and the maximum is set to 25,600.

And I was just like:

What?

That’s the first time that’s ever happened to me when looking into camera settings.

But the reason the Ricoh is so special is because it strips away all of the superfluous technical aspects of photography. What you arrive at is simply a black box with a shutter button.

That is the Ricoh.

You could argue that every camera is a black box with a shutter button. But I believe the Ricoh simplifies everything down to the bare bones.

If you’re looking for the smallest, most compact, simplest camera to use every day — it’s inevitable that you land on Ricoh.

And there’s a kind of zen to that.

The zen of Ricoh is subtraction.

When you subtract more, you arrive at the essence of the medium.

My High-Contrast JPEG Workflow

With my workflow, I’m shooting small JPEG files with high-contrast black and white.

I crank the contrast and all of the settings within the camera to the absolute maximum.

My setup is simple:

• Aperture priority mode
• f/8 or f/16
• Snap focus at 1 meter or 2 meters
• High contrast monochrome
• Automatic settings
• Processing baked into the file

From the moment I slip the camera into my front right pocket to the moment I come home and cull the photos — the result is already there.

The process is baked into the file.

This kind of approach gets photography to the point where it becomes effortless.

And the flow state becomes inevitable when you’re using a compact camera that simply doesn’t get in the way.

I find this camera to be the closest thing to not having a camera.

And that’s where I want to be on the street — just bobbing and weaving through crowds endlessly.

The Power of One Camera

Coming from the Ricoh GR III to the Ricoh GR IV Monochrome, the camera is slightly smaller and more compact. The exposure compensation dial has shifted, and I’m actually starting to enjoy it.

Nothing drastic has changed.

But I do notice that the processing with my high-contrast workflow looks aesthetically more beautiful. There’s a bit more shadow detail and a small boost in quality.

But honestly — those things don’t concern me.

I shoot small JPEG files.

What matters more is the simplicity.

By stripping away color entirely and committing to a monochrome sensor, I’m reminded of the power of limitation.

One camera.
One lens.
One processing style.

Run with it.

And that’s why I’m a fan of the JPEG workflow.

Because it removes choices.

Returning to Pure Instinct

When you remove all the decisions — color or black and white, this lens or that lens, what camera to use — you arrive at pure instinct.

Photography returns to its essence:

Drawing with light.

When I make photographs, I’m creating an instant sketch of light.

By removing color and technical decisions, I can return to pure instinct at the moment I press the shutter.

When I’m photographing, I’m not thinking. I’m just being.

I’m not hunting with a checklist, a theme, a project, or a book.

I’m simply living my everyday life and bringing the camera along for the ride.

Photography becomes a visual diary of my day.

The Spirit of Play

Because the Ricoh is small and inconspicuous, I look like a tourist.

And that allows me to embrace the spirit of play.

Through play, I tap into a childlike curiosity.

I look at:

• faces
• gestures of hands
• hair moving in the light
• small details

From that state of childlike wonder, authentic expression begins to reveal itself in the photographs.

And that’s where style actually comes from.

Style isn’t about whether you shoot color or black and white.

Style is revealed from instinct.

Synthesizing Content and Form

When I made a photograph of hair blowing in the light on Canal Street in New York City, I noticed how the light was casting on the hair.

That alone intrigued me.

That was enough to raise the camera and press the shutter.

But the duty of the photographer is to synthesize content with form.

To put order to chaos.

So I physically move my body in relationship to the subject — positioning the hair with the facade of the garage in the background.

Those decisions are made instinctively through movement.

Not thinking.

Just responding.

Sketching with Light

As I walk through the streets, I’m constantly looking:

• up at the clouds
• down at the ground
• at people
• at objects blowing in the wind

Everything becomes a fleeting moment of intrigue.

By crushing shadows and exposing for highlights with high-contrast black and white, I create mystery and drama.

Sometimes I photograph clouds using:

• a red filter
• underexposing 1–2 stops
• multi-segment metering
• crop mode into 50mm

On the Ricoh, I have the video button set to crop mode. I tap it twice and instantly switch to 50mm.

This allows me to create more dramatic imagery.

Elevating the Ordinary

A moment in real life might be interesting.

But the goal of the photographer is to elevate that moment in the photograph.

To make it more powerful than it appeared in real life.

To uplift the ordinary into the extraordinary.

By underexposing, isolating faces, and capturing gestures in slivers of light within crowded scenes, I create a visual solution to the chaos of the street.

It becomes a form of visual problem solving.

Especially in a place like New York City where crowds are constant.

Infinite Novelty in the Mundane

Returning to black and white has allowed me to find infinite novelty in the mundane.

Because light is always changing.

It is always in flux.

For instance, I walk the same street in Philadelphia every single day and photograph the same sculpture of a revolutionary hero.

Every day.

But I remind myself:

You cannot make the same photograph twice.

Because the light is always changing.

And that gives photography an infinite game to play.

The Flow State of Photography

Through this simplified workflow, I reach a point where I forget that I’m even photographing.

The past doesn’t matter.
The future doesn’t matter.

When I’m photographing, I exist outside the passage of time.

I’m just watching the light.

Watching people.

Responding to instinct.

Over time, with consistent daily practice, instinct compounds and reveals itself in the photographs.

Photography as a Way of Being

When I go out in the morning, I treat it like day one.

I’m not thinking about photos I made yesterday.

I’m not thinking about projects tomorrow.

I simply affirm:

My next photo is my best photo.

Photography becomes a way of saying yes to life.

Not a way to make great photos.

But a way to remain present.

To stay curious.

To stay sensitive to life.

Photography is a somatic experience.

You walk the streets.
You feel the atmosphere.
You hear the sounds.
You smell the city.

All of your senses remain open.

And you respond.

The Best Camera Is the One That Disappears

To wrap things up:

The Ricoh is the closest thing to not having a camera.

And that’s why I believe it’s the best camera.

Because it doesn’t get in the way of living your everyday life.

Photography stops being work.

It stops being a chore.

You’re simply living your life and bringing the camera along for the ride.

No longer striving.

No longer hunting.

Just living.

And responding to whatever you find.

And that’s why I enjoy photography — and specifically the philosophy of the Ricoh.

Alright.

That’s pretty much it.

Thank you for watching today’s video.

And I’ll see you in the next one.

Peace.

Ricoh GR IV Monochrome — My Exact Settings

Shooting Mode

• Mode: AV (Aperture Priority)
• Aperture: f/8

Focus

• Focus Mode: Single Point / Select AF
• Snap Focus Distance: 2m
• Full Press Snap: Off
• AF Assist Light: Off
• Fn Button: Snap

Exposure

• Metering: Multi-segment
• ISO: Auto
• ISO Lower Limit: 160
• ISO Upper Limit: 25,600
• Minimum Shutter Speed: 1/500
• Exposure Control: Exposure Compensation Dial

File Settings

• File Type: JPEG Only
• Aspect Ratio: 3:2
• Image Size: Small (≈3504×2336)

Image Control — High Contrast B&W

• High/Low Key: -2
• Contrast: +4
• Highlight Contrast: -4
• Shadow Contrast: 0
• Sharpness: +4
• Shading: +4
• Clarity: +4
• Grain: On
• Grain Size: 2
• Toning: Off

Buttons

• Custom Setting 1: Snap Focus Distance
• Custom Settings 2–5: Off
• Fn Button: Snap
• Movie Button: Crop Mode
• Touch AF: Off

Display

• Shooting Info Display: Simplified
• Playback Info Display: None
• Grid: 4×4
• Guide Display: Off
• Power Button Lamp: Off
• Auto Power Off: Off
• Sleep Mode: Off

The most incredible, fascinating, and innovative thing about the Ricoh GR is that you cannot strip a camera any further down than this.

Essentially, the camera is reduced to its bare bones: a small black box with a shutter button.

When combined with my workflow—high-contrast black and white, small JPEG, automatic settings—you strip photography down to the simplest possible solution for making a photograph.

It returns photography to the essence of the medium itself:

drawing with light.

When fully adopting this workflow and experiencing photography as a way of being, all that remains is pure instinct.

Over time, through consistency and compounding practice, photography becomes effortless.
The flow state becomes inevitable.
Your authentic expression begins to arise.

Once you understand that photography should not interrupt your everyday life—once you realize that wearing a camera around your neck becomes a burden—the solution becomes obvious.

The closest thing to not having a camera at all
is the Ricoh GR.

Ricoh GR IV Monochrome Review: The Most Interesting Camera Ever Made?

What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante.

I’m currently walking towards the Delaware River here in Philadelphia — Penn’s Landing, one of my favorite places in the city.

I’ve got the Ricoh GR IV Monochrome.

It’s pretty awesome. I can’t complain about this new camera too much.

First Impressions

The only real difference I notice between this and the GR III is the exposure compensation dial — which is a big deal for me.

That’s basically the only setting I ever touch.

So it’s just muscle memory I have to relearn.

The camera itself is thinner. More compact. It feels good in the hand. Again — muscle memory will kick back in with consistency.

The monochrome files?

High-contrast black and white, small JPEGs, highlight-weighted metering mode — they look more aesthetically beautiful.

It seems like there’s more information in the shadows, even though I copied over the same image control settings from my GR III.

By default the ISO is set insanely high — up to 25,600 — and I haven’t changed it. Low-light performance seems really solid.

Red Filter + Monochrome Sensor

We’ve got this beautiful cloudy sky with sun breaking through.

I put on the red filter.

So cool with high contrast.

That alone almost makes this camera worth it — having a monochrome sensor with a built-in red filter you can toggle.

You just hold the video button and it switches.

Simple.

Fellow Street Photographer

Ran into a guy shooting shadows. He had a Minolta medium format and a GR II with an optical viewfinder on top.

That brought me back.

My first Ricoh was a GR II in 2015. I even had the optical viewfinder on it.

Shout out to Eli — I gave him that GR II a year and a half ago and it’s still running. Flash doesn’t work, but the camera works.

Ricohs are durable.

I shot this GR IV Monochrome in the rain during Chinese New Year in Philly. Drizzle. No umbrella. In and out of the pocket.

Totally fine.

People are overly sensitive about their gear.

Why This Is the Most Interesting Camera Ever Made

Let’s just say it.

This might be the most interesting camera released since the birth of photography.

A compact digital monochrome camera with a built-in red filter that fits in your pocket?

Imagine what Eugène Atget would’ve done with this.

He was walking around 19th-century Paris with a wooden bellows camera and tripod.

Now?

You pull this out of your pocket. Turn it on. Instant. No lag. Press the shutter.

It’s insane.

Ricoh is the new Leica.

If Bresson was alive today, he’d be shooting this.

The Best Camera Is the One You Always Have

This is the best camera because it’s always with you.

It fits in your smallest pocket.

Zero excuses.

For everyday street photography, that’s everything.

No matter how mundane things seem — you have the tool in your front pocket.

With my workflow:

• High-contrast black and white JPEG
• Small file
• Contrast cranked to the max

When you crank the contrast to the absolute max, it rewires your brain.

You start seeing differently.

The mundane becomes beautiful because of how light glimmers across surfaces.

Light is the subject.

Light is the medium.

I’m not photographing reality as it is.

I’m photographing what it could be through abstraction.

And abstraction becomes the solution to the mundane.

Stripping Photography Down

Ricoh simplifies everything.

No viewfinder. Just LCD.

Loose compositions. Imperfect frames.

Liberating.

Now add:

• Monochrome sensor
• Small JPEG
• Automatic settings

You point and shoot.

You literally cannot simplify photography more than this.

There’s no second guessing.

What you see is what you get.

But what you get is what you didn’t see.

The surprise in the frame — that’s what I’m chasing.

Travel vs The Mundane

I’ve traveled.

Peace Corps volunteer in Zambia.

Photographed in Israel, Palestine, Mexico, Hanoi, Mumbai, Tokyo at Shibuya Crossing.

Conflict. Baptisms. Funerals.

I’m grateful for all of it.

But now?

I have zero desire to travel.

I find infinite novelty walking the same path in Philadelphia every single day.

I don’t need to travel across the world.

I can travel within my mind.

That’s the power of abstraction.

Instinct Over Thought

The goal is to return to day one.

Remain an amateur forever.

An amateur is someone who loves doing the thing for the sake of doing the thing.

You cultivate your style by cultivating instinct.

Instinct comes from repetition.

Walking.

Feeling the concrete.

Sun on your skin.

Listening to birds.

Smelling the streets.

You exist outside the passage of time.

Photography becomes the vehicle that brings you into that state.

Flow.

Presence.

Play.

Stop Hunting

I’m no longer hunting for my next best photo.

I affirm life with each click.

My next photo is my best photo.

Almost like it could be my last.

And that mindset fuels me.

The Modern World Is Insane

We live in the best time to be alive.

This little camera in my pocket.

This GoPro Mini recording this.

AI pulling quotes from my transcripts so I can understand myself better.

Electricity.

Refrigeration.

Beef fat in the freezer.

Seasons changing.

Winter ending. Spring coming.

There’s so much to look forward to.

Welcome to the world of Dante.

Timeline

• July 11, 2023 – NYC
• July 12, 2023 – NYC
• July 4, 2024 – NYC
• July 5, 2024 – NYC
• July 4, 2025 – NYC
• July 5, 2025 – NYC
• January 17, 2026 – NYC
• February 28, 2026 – NYC
• March 1, 2026 – NYC

Videos

• NYC skyline from Amtrak train window
• Feeding pigeons in Washington Square Park, NYC
• “Let’s Meat” All you can eat Korean BBQ in NYC
• NYC Times Square at Night
• Felix Coffee Roaster in NYC
• Q train to Coney Island
• Crab Lady on the Coney Island Pier
• Dancing Under the Coney Island Pier
• Looking for sea glass on the beach
• Basketball on Coney Island Beach
• Aperture Summer Pop-Up Book Sale in NYC
• Driving Game at B&H Photo Store
• % Arabica Coffee Shop in Brooklyn
• Bruce Davidson “The Way Back” at the Howard Greenberg Gallery

Why Photography Is the Ultimate Way to Experience Life

What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante.

Currently walking around Philadelphia, coming out of the market. Got some raw milk here — 100% grass-fed. Cold winter days. Where’s the sun? Where’s the rays?

Today’s thought is about happiness — and why I believe photography is the ultimate way to experience life and cultivate joy in your everyday existence.

Just looking up at these beautiful birds flying from canopy to canopy — the canopies being these tall skyscrapers and buildings. When you’re around people in society, walking the streets with your camera and photographing, this to me is paradise.

I always have a camera with me. Today we got the Ricoh GR III.

And when you always have a camera with you, it becomes a superpower. It feels like anything is possible. I feel unstoppable.

It gives me the ultimate excuse to be present. To be grounded. To engage with life.

The Physicality of Joy

In the modern world, we have unlimited food options. You can order Uber Eats, sit at home, watch Netflix all day, and never move your feet.

But the physicality of life is what makes life beautiful.

There’s something exciting about surrounding yourself in the chaos of the street.

Photography is my excuse to return to a childlike spirit of play — to treat the world, to treat the street, like a playground.

Life can become a prison. But you have the key to unlock the door to the playground.

It’s a matter of perception. Of how you feel internally.

I can’t control the weather. The conditions. Whether I come home with a “good” or “bad” photograph.

But I can control:

• My curiosity
• My vitality
• The state of my body

And so I prioritize health.

Photography becomes an extension of my physical practice. I’m walking. Moving. Training my body. Wearing barefoot shoes. Feeling the concrete beneath my feet.

Light cardio. Looking around. Engaging the sights, the sounds, the smells.

If you wake up lacking physical vitality — how will you ever cultivate curiosity? How will you practice your photography?

Enthusiasm comes from vitality.

Theos — meaning God. To be enthusiastic is to be possessed by God.

I want to wake up possessed by that spirit. To release my inner daemon when I’m on the street.

There’s no rational reason I do this. There’s an obsessive quality to it. Something that propels me to the front lines of life.

When you’re outside, you thrive.

When you’re inside, sitting, living on standby — your soul slowly dies.

Outside the Passage of Time

When you’re walking and photographing, you exist outside the passage of time.

We have a past.
We have a future.

But neither are of concern.

All that matters is this moment — when you click the shutter.

Street photography is stepping into the stream of becoming.

Not dwelling on yesterday’s photos.
Not thinking about tomorrow’s project.

Just affirming:

My next photograph will be my next best photograph.

Even on the same mundane streets every day, there are infinite ways to articulate the mundane.

Curiosity fuels inspiration.

But inspiration isn’t external.

Inspirare — to breathe into.

Life breathes into you. Animation. Consciousness. Movement.

When you raise the camera to your eye and truly notice — life becomes a dream.

Don’t think of life only as it is.
Think of what it could be through your interpretation.

Subtraction & Instinct

Practically, I use a compact digital camera — the Ricoh GR — high-contrast black and white JPEGs. Automatic settings. Everything baked into the file.

Photography becomes effortless. Flow state becomes inevitable.

Flow happens when thinking dies.

Motivation lies in movement.

To cultivate your authentic way of photographing, you subtract.

Remove decisions:

• Color or black and white
• This lens or that lens
• This camera or that camera

Choice is an illusion.

Left and right are distractions.

Freedom comes from eliminating options.

When you remove noise and distraction, what’s left?

Instinct.
Intuition.

That irrational pull to press the shutter — that’s your authentic expression.

Through repetition. Through discipline. Through going out daily.

Instinct is the purest reflection of who you are.

In a world where we endlessly consume, a compact camera gives you the ability to create.

To express.

Play the Game

Stop taking your life and photography so seriously.

Let the chips fall as they may.

Embrace play.

From that state — flow emerges.

The question that keeps me out here:

What will reality manifest to be in a photograph?

What you see isn’t necessarily what you get.
What you get is what you didn’t see.

That surprise — those nuances and details — fuel curiosity.

The more I experiment, the more I wake up eager for the day.

But it requires forgetting what you think you know.

Going slow.
Being present.
Being prepared.

Photography becomes a visual diary.

Maybe I won’t live forever.

But at least I can leave behind some photographs.

Through photographing my everyday life — for myself — I’m never lonely.

No matter how mundane things seem. No matter the external circumstances.

Through the camera, you can always find meaning.

You can always uplift something.

Photography fuels me with curiosity, enthusiasm, and vitality.

For that, I’m grateful.

Thanks for watching.

Peace.

“And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?

Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye; and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye?

Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother’s eye.”

Creative Constraints = Creative Freedom

What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante, currently walking around Center City Philadelphia with the Ricoh GR III, just snapshotting my way through life.

And today I’m thinking about creative constraints — and how they actually lead to creative freedom.

The Illusion of Choice

We have this illusion of choice in life.

You can go left.
You can go right.
You have Coke.
You have Pepsi.

There seems to be unlimited choices we can determine and choose ourselves. We have this sort of idea of free will.

But I believe the true path to liberation and freedom is eliminating all the choices and recognizing that the real path to freedom is onwards and upwards.

Simplify Until Photography Disappears

In a creative context, that means simplifying your workflow to a point where photography does not get in the way.

For me, that looks like:

• A compact camera that fits in my pocket
• One focal length
• Automatic settings
• Everything baked into the file
• No processing

It simplifies everything from the ground up.

All I’m left to do is point and shoot.

I have a black box, a button, and a little LCD screen on the back that lets me see the composition.

That’s it.

Constraint Liberates Instinct

When I streamline the approach and give myself a technical constraint, a creative constraint, I can liberate the way in which I create.

On the street, I recognize the instinct.

That instinct pulls my body to respond to the pigeon in flight and press the shutter.

It’s not rational.

It’s an irrational pull.

Photography is physical.

Yes, it’s visual — you’re putting together a frame, recognizing moments, watching the background, waiting for alignment.

But realistically?

The instinct. The intuition. That’s where your authentic expression lies.

Your vision sharpens through repetition inside constraint.

If you want your own unique vision, your own unique approach, you have to embrace the creative constraint.

With consistency.
With repetition.
With competition.

But it’s only possible through the constraint.

Decision Fatigue Kills Flow

Unlimited decisions lead to burnout.

Which camera?
Which lens?
Color or black and white?
Left or right?

That decision fatigue clouds the mind.

And I believe it leads to stagnation.

But when I give myself a creative constraint, I enter an endless flow state — of motivation, of production, of clicking that damn shutter and responding to my gut.

The Goal: Flow State

What I seek on the street is the flow state.

Street photography is about embracing spontaneity.
Embracing the unknown.
Being in the now.

So I can simply be there — and be prepared to respond to that gut feeling that propels me to click the shutter.

Where photography becomes effortless.

Where the flow state is inevitable.

Freedom Through Elimination

Freedom lies where there are no more choices to make.

From that state, you can create infinitely.

A thousand different ways.
An infinite number of possibilities.

It’s a paradox.

But I believe this is the path to creative freedom:

Remove the choices.
Stick to one.
Run and gun with it.

Go onwards and upwards.

And don’t look back.

Photography as Unlearning: How to Never Miss Another Sunrise

What’s popping, people? It’s Dante.

Today I’m thinking about photography as a way of unlearning — what that means, and why I’m thinking about this.

Essentially, the ultimate challenge for a photographer is to find new ways to play the game every single day.

And my ultimate aim is to never miss another sunrise ever again in my life.

The reason I say this immediately is because the orientation of a photographer — and the way you feel about life generally — is what influences what you put within your frames and how you play this game. And that game lies in the mundane.

Whether or not you have enthusiasm for the day, for the mundane, will ultimately reflect back in your photography.

If you’re waking up eager — marching through the snow… look at all these freaking snow tracks I left, this is crazy — I think that is the ultimate place to be.

So essentially: by unlearning photography, by unlearning what you think about life generally, you’ll wake up with this insatiable curiosity for engaging with life and engaging with humanity. And that will propel you out there onto the front lines of life to practice daily — and to infinitely find yourself returning to the sunrise.

Streamlining the practice so photography doesn’t get in the way

Some simple, practical ways I’m achieving this goal of eternally returning to photography every single day — despite how mundane things may seem — is by embracing a very streamlined process:

• using a compact camera
• snapshotting loosely with compositional decisions
• using a JPEG file that requires no processing
• having everything technically set in an automatic way

Photography shouldn’t get in the way.

And stripping away color — using high-contrast black and white — has been providing me a solution to the mundane nature of life. For me, that looks like returning to the essence of the medium:

light.

Finding joy in simple things — the way light casts upon surfaces, people, places, and things — and photographing in a way where I’m curious about how light will render in an image through the lens of my camera.

Experimentation, openness, and letting the photograph surprise you

What I’m doing with my practice these days is endlessly exploring experimentation — tinkering, exploring — with this sense of openness to what will reveal itself when I look at the images.

A lot of times what I think I see when I make a photograph isn’t necessarily what I get back.

What I get back in the photograph is often what I didn’t see.

So I’m using abstraction as a solution to the mundane nature of practicing daily.

I can return to the same park every morning.
I can return to the sunrise at the same location every day.

But the way the light casts upon that place will never be the same.

You cannot make the same photograph twice.

Everything is in flux. Everything is changing. The light is out of our control. The spontaneous nature of life is out of our control.

What you control (and what you don’t)

We’re not in control of the light.
We’re not in control of the conditions.
We’re not in control of whether we see something interesting.
We’re not in control of whether we create a great photograph.

But what we are in control of is:

• how often we go out there and see the world
• how often we bring our camera
• how often we walk

We’re simply in control of marching endlessly into the unknown — waking up with that empty blank slate, that childlike state of curiosity.

Curiosity requires vitality

I think it’s quite impossible to cultivate curiosity without physical vitality.

Another practical way I’m returning to photography every single day is by never missing the sunrise — always catching the rays — and aligning my physical body, primally, with the light.

Setting my circadian rhythm.
Getting deep sleep.
Waking up every morning with energy that overflows out of me into the streets when I’m practicing.

I believe that in order to cultivate curiosity, one must possess vitality in their physical body, and it stems from aligning with sunlight.

And yeah — if you’re falling asleep within like five minutes when you go to bed… consider yourself blessed.

When you wake up in the morning, it’s like you’re born again, and everything can become fresh.

But it requires you to destroy all of your preconceived notions of what life is generally.

Unlearning through non-consumption

There’s a lot of noise in the world. A lot of consumption of information.

For the past many years now — around four years — I’ve completely disconnected from the news, from the media. I really don’t consume anything.

I read old books.

I try to make sure I’m in this perpetual flow state — effortlessly living everyday life — and not consuming anything. And through that lack of consumption, I can cultivate my natural and authentic expression with the things I create — with my photography.

So think more about how you can unlearn everything you think you know about everything.

Through that unlearning, you’ll discover who you are.

And if you want to give birth to that dancing star — you kind of have to embrace the unknown.

You kind of have to embrace the chaos, the spontaneity — headfirst — with your practice.

Fail daily with consistency.
Show up without expectations of what you will see.

And over time — compounding with consistency — you will find your style, you will find your voice, and you will find your place on this giant floating rock orbiting around this ball of fire that I seek to catch every single day.

That’s pretty much it.

Thanks for watching, and I’ll see you in the next one.

Seeing Beyond the Mundane: Infinite Possibility in Everyday Photography

What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante.

I’m walking through the park today thinking about seeing beyond the obvious and the mundane nature of everyday life. When you look at this path, you see beautiful white snow, some trees, and I’ve got my Ricoh GR III.

I can make a photo of that path and look at it one way. Or I can bend down low, look at the details, and make a photo of the cracks. Look at the small things.

Changing Perspective

I can come over here by this tree and get a different perspective by looking up. I can even use the built-in crop mode on the Ricoh GR III to 50mm, turn the flash on, switch to macro mode—make sure I get that macro mode—and photograph a pine cone at very close proximity.

Built-in crop mode.
Flash.
Macro.

And suddenly, there’s so many more photos you can make on this one small path in the park.

Infinite Ways to Play

That’s the simple message I wanted to share. There’s so much to do. There’s so much to see. Photography is limitless in the infinite possibilities of how you can articulate things.

The ultimate aim of the photographer is to find new ways to play this game every single day.

My personal way forward is photographing daily, in the same mundane places, and finding new ways to play. Finding new ways to photograph the mundane.

I like placing my camera in unfamiliar territory—even in places I think I’ve already photographed. Going close with macro. Photographing landscapes, details, and everything in between.

It might feel like you’ve seen it all, done it all, photographed it all. But there are still so many ways to look with your two eyes.

Abstracting Reality

Another way I like to use my Ricoh is by overexposing.

There’s this stick growing out of the ground. If I overexpose by about two stops, I can create a beautiful abstract shape using macro. It pulls the form out against a white background.

Looking at small details in new ways unlocks an infinite approach to photography.

I can return to photography every single day and thrive in the mundane.

One of my favorite things is photographing in this park because it challenges me to find new ways to see.

The City as a Dream

I think about familiar streets in my city, Philadelphia. It’s an urban environment—lots of people, lots going on. People moving from point A to point B. It can seem very mundane.

But when you raise the camera to your eye and start seeing differently, life becomes a dream.

There are endless opportunities to photograph.

Photography becomes a way to extract an abstract reality.

Beyond Documentation

This is how I’m thriving creatively going forward—embracing abstraction and moving beyond documentation.

I’ve spent many years traveling and photographing reality as it is. But now, making photos of what reality could be by abstracting life brings me more joy.

It doesn’t matter where I am. I find infinite possibility in the mundane.

Photographing twigs.
Photographing the sky.
Photographing trees.
Photographing the path I leave behind in the snow.

I forget everything I think I know about photography.

I’ll even throw the camera out of focus. Why not?

Embracing the Obvious

I thrive in the obvious. In places that are often photographed.

I think about Shibuya Crossing. I always heard it’s the worst place to practice street photography. Too cliché. Too many tourists. Like Times Square of Tokyo.

But when I was there, I made some of my most groundbreaking work.

By playing. By tinkering. By abstracting. By creating small slivers of faces in the light.

That was the most fun I’ve ever had practicing street photography anywhere in the world.

The Way Forward

So I challenge you to embrace the mundane nature of life.

It’s up to you.
Your perception.
Your ability to articulate.

Go slow. Let life flow toward you. Be ready with your camera.

I look at the world as a canvas. I draw with light. I wield light as the medium. The subject provides infinite opportunity.

Even looking up at the sky—sunrise, clouds, light—it becomes painterly.

Just headed to work. Hopping off the bus. And I’ve already made photographs of trees, twigs, details, and the sky.

Macro with flash.
Abstraction.
Play.

The Gospel of the Ricoh

There’s still so much to do.

Street photography often limits how we see. We get caught up in clichés and how things should be done.

I say nay.

Embrace play. Let the chips fall where they may. Treat each day as a new way to create.

The Gospel of the Ricoh.

Ricoh GR Event — Transcript

Samuel was kind enough to invite me to this Ricoh GR event.
Thank you, Samuel. Very nice of you.

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Why I Choose the Ricoh GR

When it comes to my camera of choice — the Ricoh GR III and the GR IIIx are the perfect solution for me.

Because I’m looking to simplify my process.

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My Workflow

• Small JPEG
• High contrast black and white simulation
• Everything done in-camera
• No crop
• No editing
• No fuss

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The Philosophy

Really, I’m not a computer guy.

I don’t know how to use cameras.
I hate camera gear.

I just want to get the job done.

If this isn’t the solution, I don’t know what is.

But I’m rocking with Ricoh.