This morning I want to share some thoughts on how using cheap materials has transformed my photography. Embracing low-resolution, small JPEG files has genuinely brought me more joy in my practice.
For example, recently I’ve been shooting video on an old-school Sony Handycam. It records in 480p, and I’m displaying the footage on a CRT television.
With my photography workflow, I’m using a Ricoh and shooting small JPEGs with the processing and high contrast cranked up in-camera so I don’t have to edit anything afterward.
When it comes to the physical materials I use, I’m printing all of my work on regular copy paper using a Brother monochrome LaserJet printer.
Every photograph you see is printed on some of the cheapest materials possible.
And honestly?
I absolutely love the quality.
I love the grit, the grain, and the imperfections that come from a regular monochrome printer, toner, and basic copy paper from Staples.
I even own a Canon Pro-1000 professional printer.
But if I’m honest…
I prefer looking at my work on regular copy paper.
Oh, check this out.
This is me as a baby. I’m on the right, and my brother is on the left.
Imperfection Is Creative Freedom
I think using cheap materials liberates you because it removes the pressure of things needing to be perfect.
As artists, photographers, and creative people, we’re constantly trying to perfect our craft.
You want to make the hardcover book.
You want to exhibit your work in a gallery.
You want everything to be technically flawless.
But when you embrace imperfection, you actually start making things instead of endlessly thinking about making things.
One thing I’ve done is systematize the way I print my work.
I’ve built an archival system and presentation style using:
Manila folders
The aesthetics of bureaucracy
Typewriter fonts
Visible staple marks
Cheap monochrome prints
Regular copy paper
These aren’t compromises.
They’re creative decisions.
I’ve also embraced automation.
AI generates these zines for me automatically.
Everything is organized by date, time, photographer name, and sequencing without me having to do anything.
I literally drag and drop my photos.
The books are assembled automatically.
That combination of software automation and a simple photographic workflow—shooting quickly with small JPEG files—is incredibly liberating.
The Joy of Low Resolution
This isn’t some deep philosophical insight.
It’s simply something I’ve been feeling lately.
Using cheap paper and low-resolution outputs has made photography more enjoyable.
When you stop chasing the sharpest possible image…
When you embrace grit and grain…
You realize something.
The work looks great.
The imperfections become the aesthetic.
To me, imperfection is perfection.
Life Is Too Short to Hesitate
I think hesitation is one of the biggest creative problems photographers face.
We get trapped trying to make everything just right.
But life is too short for that.
The goal is to keep producing.
By designing a workflow where my photographs look aesthetically beautiful even on the cheapest materials possible, I remove the friction from making work.
High-contrast black-and-white photography has become the perfect solution.
A Simpler Photography Workflow
As printing costs increase…
As ink gets more expensive…
As storage becomes more complicated…
I’ve found myself moving toward an incredibly streamlined workflow.
All you really need is:
A Ricoh camera
An iPhone or iPad
A USB dongle or SD card reader
Small JPEG files
No giant hard drives.
No complicated editing.
No expensive printing process.
Sometimes I’m perfectly happy just looking at small thumbnail prints pinned to my wall.
When the day comes that I want to make something more permanent, I can always use a print-on-demand service like Blurb to create a hardcover book.
And that’s satisfying.
But I also think serious projects often come with serious pressure.
Ship at 80%
When I make a hardcover book, every sequencing decision feels permanent.
Every edit feels important.
That seriousness creates hesitation.
I’d rather make something that’s 80% perfect, ship it, and move on.
Because…
It’s really not that serious.
The important thing is continuing to make work.
Open Source Photography
One of the coolest parts of this system is that other people can use it too.
If you visit:
https://flux.dantesisofo.com/generator
you can use the exact same generator I use to automatically create printable PDF zines.
Print them at home.
Submit your work to me.
I’ll print it here physically and review it on the YouTube channel.
I’ve already received work from photographers around the world—including Germany—and because the system is so inexpensive, it’s incredibly easy to print everyone’s work.
Everything is open source.
Anyone can participate.
Physical Work Should Be Accessible
Books are becoming increasingly expensive.
Printing is expensive.
Materials are expensive.
So my philosophy is simple.
Why not open-source the work?
I love experiencing photography physically.
And I think the most accessible way to do that is by embracing cheap materials rather than fighting against them.
It’s become one of the most joyful parts of this entire project.
Seeing your work arrive.
Printing it.
Holding it in my hands.
Reviewing it here.
That’s what photography is about for me.
If you’d like to create your own zine, use the generator linked below and submit your work.
I’d love to see it.
And if you’d like to join the Flux Discord community, click the Join button here on the YouTube channel.
What’s popping people? It’s Dante, currently walking around Philly here at nighttime, photographing with the Ricoh GR IIIx, 71 millimeter crop mode, with the macro mode purposely knocked out of focus.
And so essentially, when I’m photographing, I’m merely curious about how life and light will render upon my camera sensor.
I’m not really looking to make a photograph that sort of states something as a fact, but I’m looking to evoke an emotional feeling through the imagery.
And at the end of the day, what keeps me curious about photography is the unknown, the spontaneity, the serendipity that arises in the frames.
And so I’m letting go of certainty. I’m letting go of photographing something as a matter of fact, but evoking an emotional feeling and embracing fiction through photography.
What’s popping people? It’s Dante, currently photographing here in Philadelphia.
And today I’m just thinking about the limitless mindset, and how unlocking more possibility with your photography will bring you more joy.
Essentially, if you have any preconceptions about what you should be photographing, it’s going to limit you.
But once you start unlocking more possibilities with your photography by photographing everything, you’ll start to feel and understand what piques your curiosity.
And so don’t limit yourself with any preconceived idea of what you believe photography should be.
Simply start photographing and follow your curiosity.
Welcome to Flux Archive 011, where we look at some of the photographs I’ve made throughout my black and white photography journey.
These photographs are from October 2023.
Flux is a system I developed that chronologically publishes your photography automatically. If you’d like to make a zine like this yourself, there’s a link in the description where you can generate one.
Each photograph includes the date, time, photographer name, and is sequenced chronologically through space and time.
I genuinely believe that making photographs is a way to relive your life.
When I look back through these images in chronological order, I feel much more connected to the work. The sequencing of photographs inside a book or zine completely changes how you experience the story.
Rather than carefully arranging every spread, I like relinquishing control.
Sometimes the photograph on the left has nothing to do with the one on the right. Other times they unexpectedly create something stronger than I could have intentionally designed.
I like the idea of relinquishing control and simply seeing the way I stumbled through life.
That feels honest.
Photography—especially street photography—is already built on unpredictability, spontaneity, and serendipity. Letting the sequencing happen naturally embraces those same qualities.
Photographing Your Own Life
I’ve always enjoyed including my own feet or my own hand in photographs.
When I revisit these images, I’m reminded of returning to church, photographing a rosary, looking down beneath my feet, and simply being curious about everything around me.
Photography continues opening me up to the world in ways I’m incredibly grateful for.
Whether I’m riding my bike down one of my favorite trails or walking through the city, I’m constantly surprised by the way light and shadow create dramatic scenes.
Ultimately I’m looking at texture.
I’m looking at light.
I’m looking at landscapes.
But more than anything, I’m waiting for something within the scene to reveal itself.
Going Beyond Reality
High-contrast black and white photography has this incredible ability to transform ordinary places.
A simple riverbank becomes another world.
Dropping low to photograph leaves, grass, and small details beneath your feet completely changes your perspective.
Macro mode reveals textures and qualities of light you may never have noticed while standing there.
Photography lets me go beyond reality.
It allows me to see things more closely than I experienced them in the moment.
That’s why I photograph everything.
Humanity.
Strangers.
Geometry.
Light.
Shadow.
Shape.
Form.
I don’t only want to make traditional street photography.
Everything around me is a possibility.
And I think that abundant mindset naturally makes you more prolific.
The Power of Repetition
One of my favorite photographs in this issue is the bird flying beside Philadelphia City Hall.
At first glance, it looks like luck.
But it wasn’t.
I walked this exact stretch of JFK Boulevard every single day for weeks.
Every morning I’d watch the pigeons.
I studied how they flew.
Where they landed.
The patterns they repeated.
Eventually I realized they regularly crossed in front of William Penn atop City Hall.
So I kept coming back.
Again.
And again.
And eventually everything aligned.
The bird.
The tower.
The light.
The starburst.
The timing.
It finally happened.
I got lucky because I consistently repeated the same walk.
There’s real power in repetition.
The more consistent you become, the more deeply you notice patterns.
Patterns in light.
Patterns in birds.
Patterns in human behavior.
Eventually you stop reacting intellectually.
You begin responding instinctively.
Everything Is Photographable
A photograph of a mouth biting a flower.
A poster.
The geometry between buildings.
Light reflecting through the streets.
Looking upward.
Looking downward.
The street is an endless canvas.
There is always something worth photographing if you’re paying attention.
Photograph for Yourself
One of these photographs was made along Forbidden Drive in Wissahickon Park, where I grew up.
When I see that image, I’m transported right back into that autumn afternoon.
Whether someone else connects with the photograph isn’t really my concern.
I’m making pictures that bring me back to memories that matter to me.
Pictures that give me personal joy.
I genuinely believe that when you photograph for yourself first, the work becomes a much more authentic reflection of who you are.
And I think that’s ultimately what we’re all trying to achieve.
So my advice is simple:
Photograph for yourself first. Don’t worry about the audience.
That’s how I approach my work.
Closing
The final photographs take us through Reading Terminal Market before ending with the contact sheets on the back of the zine.
Every Flux issue includes a manifest document associated with each image, QR codes linking to the digital archive, and downloadable PDFs available on my website.
If you’d like to make your own Flux zine, upload 36 photographs using the Flux Generator linked below.
If I enjoy your work, I’ll feature it here on the YouTube channel.
Otherwise, join the Flux Discord community through the Join button here on YouTube.
Welcome to Flux Archive Session Number 10, where I look through another collection of photographs from my black and white photography journey.
These photographs were made throughout October 2023, and every image in this zine was created using my Flux Generator. Upload 36 photographs, and they’ll automatically be sequenced chronologically and timestamped into your own printable Flux zine. You can even submit it directly to me for a chance to have your work reviewed here on the channel.
Today I want to talk about something that’s become foundational to my photography.
The mundane is the name of the game.
Stop Hunting for the Perfect Moment
I think a lot of photographers spend too much time hunting.
We’re waiting for the decisive moment.
We’re waiting for something extraordinary.
We’re waiting for someone interesting to walk into the frame.
Meanwhile…
People are reading on park benches.
Walking to work.
Waiting for buses.
Looking at their phones.
The complaint I hear most often is:
“Nothing is happening.”
But that’s exactly where the photographs are.
Beauty Already Exists
The mundane isn’t boring.
It’s simply waiting for your attention.
A man reading during his lunch break.
Light falling across a stairwell.
A shadow wrapping itself around a tower.
A construction worker unloading equipment.
Someone passing a chalk drawing on the sidewalk.
These moments exist everywhere.
The only thing missing is your curiosity.
Disconnect From the Noise
I think the first step toward seeing the ordinary is becoming less distracted.
We’re constantly consuming.
Phones.
Television.
Music.
Notifications.
AirPods.
We’re overstimulated.
To photograph the mundane, you have to disconnect from all of that.
Turn inward.
Pay attention.
Suddenly the way light falls across your hand becomes fascinating.
A simple gesture becomes extraordinary.
The ordinary hasn’t changed.
You have.
Go Limitless
If you keep asking yourself whether something is “interesting enough” to photograph…
You’re going to limit yourself.
Instead…
Photograph everything.
The cars.
The posters.
The textures.
The walls.
The signs.
The people waiting.
The small gestures.
Approach every scene with openness.
You won’t discover extraordinary photographs by filtering out ordinary life.
Trust Your Instinct
The biggest obstacle isn’t the scene.
It’s hesitation.
The moment you begin debating whether a photograph is worth making…
You’ve already slowed yourself down.
Instead…
When something catches your attention—
Shoot.
Trust your instincts.
The photograph can only exist if you allow yourself to make it.
Create Your Own World
Many of these photographs were made while newspaper headlines filled the streets with news from around the world.
Those stories existed around me.
I photographed them.
I became aware of them.
But photography also became something else.
It became a way to create my own world.
Instead of becoming overwhelmed by the noise surrounding me, photography lets me interpret reality through my own eyes.
That’s incredibly empowering.
Photography isn’t only about documenting facts.
It’s about creating your own interpretation of life.
Presence Is the Goal
When you begin embracing the mundane, something changes.
Photography becomes effortless.
A plastic bag rolling through the wind suddenly becomes interesting.
Someone wiping down a window becomes worth photographing.
The world becomes your canvas.
Everything carries possibility.
And that possibility creates joy.
Composition Creates Mystery
One photograph shows nothing more than a man cleaning a window.
That’s all that’s happening.
But by lowering my camera…
Looking upward…
Removing unnecessary details…
The gesture becomes mysterious.
The ordinary transforms into something else.
Nothing changed except my position.
Composition gives ordinary moments a new life.
Joy Comes From Curiosity
Once you begin seeing beauty in everyday life, photography becomes incredibly rewarding.
Every walk has potential.
Every street contains possibility.
Every ordinary moment offers something new.
That curiosity creates joy.
And that joy keeps you coming back with your camera every day.
Practical Advice
Whenever I don’t know what to photograph, I simplify everything.
I look up.
I photograph the clouds.
The horizon.
The changing light.
Then I look down.
I notice textures beneath my feet.
Patterns.
Shadows.
Details.
Finally, I look all around me.
Curiosity isn’t something you wait for.
It’s something you practice.
The Mundane Is Infinite
Photography has taught me that extraordinary photographs aren’t hidden somewhere else.
They’re already here.
They’re waiting in ordinary moments.
Waiting in familiar streets.
Waiting in everyday life.
The only thing required is your willingness to pay attention.
Look up. Look down. Look all around you. The mundane is where photography begins.
Those are my thoughts for Flux Archive 010.
If you’d like to create your own Flux zine, upload 36 photographs using the Flux Generator linked below.
If I enjoy the work, I may review it here on the YouTube channel.
Otherwise, if you’d like to join the Flux Discord community, click Join on the YouTube channel.
I’m currently here in Bartram’s Garden in West Philadelphia, shooting with the Ricoh GR4 Monochrome.
I’m going to be doing the ultimate challenge today of producing 36 photographs in under one hour, going home, and producing a zine.
So follow me along as we walk the trails in this beautiful park and make some photos.
Finding Beauty in the Small Details
Right off the bat, what I’m really interested in photographing are these beautiful flowers.
There’s so much beauty all around me already, and I’m starting to notice how I can isolate the flowers, underexposing and producing a beautiful, abstract image of these plants.
I’m currently using macro mode with the built-in 50mm crop mode and underexposing by 0.3 on the exposure compensation dial to create a more ethereal effect with the image, which essentially crushes the background into black and exposes for the highlights.
I’m also using the multisegment metering mode today.
When I’m photographing, I like to think about the photograph and the composition itself almost like a visual puzzle.
Whether I’m photographing people on the street, inanimate things, or nature like flowers, I think about how I can relate different elements in the foreground and background to synthesize the composition.
Horizontal versus vertical is something I consider a lot.
With this composition specifically, I’m choosing to make a vertical frame, isolating this flower in the foreground and then showcasing that flower there in the background.
Using that vertical framing allows me to create hierarchy throughout the composition from foreground to background and isolate different elements.
When you’re looking at life, don’t just look at life as a horizontal plane. Think about how the camera orientation and the way that you place things can influence the photograph.
Photography Is the Art of Noticing
I love the texture of these decaying leaves.
Wabi-sabi.
One of the things I love about macro mode is that it forces me to look at all these small details around me.
Right now, I’m looking at these beautiful leaves, the holes within them, and how these critters have been eating them. I want to make a photograph of this small detail because I find it to be very beautiful.
Photography is all about the art of noticing.
Ultimately, my goal as a photographer is to remain curious about things.
Whether I’m looking at people, light, gestures, forms, shapes, or even textures like the patterns of these beautiful leaves, there’s so much intricacy and detail all around me.
When you’re in a park like this, you might think, Oh, it’s mundane. It’s boring.
But ultimately, there’s infinite novelty because everything around me is in flux and changing.
All of the beautiful flowers are decaying. Things are regrowing. Each season is changing.
I find that to be something really simple that fuels my curiosity: reminding myself that everything around me is changing and there’s so much possibility in the mundane.
Photography as Life Affirmation
I like to think about my philosophy and outlook on life generally as somebody who has biophilia.
I have a love for all natural things.
I love nature. I love people.
Surrounding myself in these spaces gives me this deep sense of appreciation for life generally, and I find that photography, for me, is an act of life affirmation and gratitude.
With each click of the shutter, I’m simply saying yes to life and thank you for the day.
Spending time in nature like this reminds me that the small details in life are what are most meaningful to me and most beautiful.
Look Down. Then Look Up.
One pro tip when photographing anywhere, whether you’re in a park, the city, or anywhere in between:
Look down beneath your feet.
Then look up above you into the sky.
There’s something below you and there’s something above you.
When your perspective opens to macro details or vast landscapes, you’ll start to see differently.
Right now, I’m looking at this beautiful leaf upon the ground. I’m going to make a photograph of this thing from a very close perspective.
Then I’m going to look up above and look at the beautiful shapes formed between the trees and the canopy.
I’m using the crop mode built into the Ricoh to get close to the shapes that I’m interested in.
Darkness Creates Mystery
The only setting that I typically touch is the exposure compensation when shooting high contrast.
Right now, I’m going to underexpose a little bit.
I’m looking toward this trail and seeking to make a more mysterious frame, where it almost looks like the trail is leading to nowhere.
I find that darkness in imagery can create mystery and even an emotional quality that can be evoked for the viewer.
As much as I’m looking at life and all of the things around me—the different objects, shapes, and forms—what I’m seeking to achieve through the imagery is an emotional impact on the viewer.
Photography Gets Me Into Reality
One of the things that I love about photography is that it simply gets me out into the world, into reality.
That’s what’s so powerful about photography.
It requires you to physically get down low onto your knees and look at the leaves.
Look at all these things and find beauty all around you.
Whether you’re looking out at a tree canopy or somewhere in your backyard, there’s so much possibility in life generally.
I really do thank photography for reminding me of this fact.
With photography, anything is possible. Photography, for me, becomes a superpower.
I find such rich meaning in the act of simply noticing, exploring, and photographing.
Using Black and White to Create a New World
One thing I want to talk about is light and how light can elevate a photograph.
Right now, we have pretty soft light. We don’t even have dramatic light.
But by stripping away color and photographing in black and white, I can use abstraction as a solution to the problem of finding something in the seemingly nothing that’s all around me.
I could simply look at this leaf and say, Oh, it’s just a leaf.
But when I get down below to my feet and look at this thing using light, observing the different ways that light and shadow interact with this leaf, I can create a new world through photography.
That act alone is what’s fueling me with curiosity to continue photographing.
You Don’t Have to Travel Anywhere Special
You really don’t have to travel far or anywhere special to start photographing.
Don’t be dependent upon the external world delivering you something.
Simply slow down.
Look beneath your feet.
Look all around you.
Start noticing.
At the end of the day, that’s all we’re responsible for as photographers: noticing and feeling deeply in the moment when we’re photographing.
The more that you walk, slow down, and start noticing, the more you’re going to start photographing.
Your Instincts Are Your Style
A thought I have about style in photography is that style doesn’t arise through choosing color or choosing black and white.
Style arises when you cultivate your pure instinct.
The way that I set my camera up specifically gets me to a place where I’m no longer thinking and hesitating, but simply photographing from my pure instincts—from what I am noticing.
Your instincts are your style.
What you’re drawn to through your intuition is ultimately your style.
Style isn’t a decision of color versus black and white, or this kind of processing versus that kind of processing.
High-contrast black and white, for me, is a solution to photography where I’m no longer thinking about processing. I’m no longer thinking and hesitating about my camera settings.
I simply start photographing.
The practice that I’ve developed has gotten me to this place where I’m no longer in my mind, but I’m in my physical body, responding to my pure instincts, noticing things, and simply photographing.
Over time, with the consistency compounding through practice, you’ll find your authentic expression.
But it will only arise through time spent cultivating your instincts.
Don’t Box Yourself Into One Genre
As a street photographer who’s been photographing humanity, traveling the world, and telling stories, I’m trying to unlock myself from the shackles of what street photography is and simply start photographing from my pure instincts.
Following my childlike curiosity and going to the places that I like to be—nature, parks, sometimes the streets, photographing people—is allowing me to creatively thrive.
One myth I want to challenge is that you have to box yourself into only one genre or one way of thinking about photography.
Unlock more possibilities through photography by tapping into your childlike curiosity.
Some days my childlike curiosity has me coming out into the park to play.
That’s just where I happen to be today.
I’m not worrying about only photographing a particular subject matter or pigeonholing myself into practicing street photography.
I’m currently looking at nature, looking at plants, and finding possibility in my photography.
I’m not boxing myself into any limiting beliefs of what I believe a photographer should be.
Photography as a Visual Diary
One thing that has been allowing me to flourish creatively is honestly photographing everything.
I simply treat photography as a visual diary of my day.
When I’m out here walking and photographing, honestly, I don’t have anything to say.
What will be said will be said through the photography.
By treating photography as a visual diary, I’m merely bringing my camera for the ride and photographing throughout my everyday life.
I’m no longer hunting.
I’m no longer striving or searching for photographs.
I’m experiencing life while simultaneously making photographs.
The pressure of performance and finding great photos can become a burden and a chore. It can make photography less fun.
But if you simply enjoy stepping out into the sun, going for a walk, and photographing what you find without the burden and pressure of performance, you’ll start to find more joy in your life.
Don’t worry about what the photographs mean.
Don’t worry if there’s no deep underlying meaning.
Simply use photography as a way for you to stay connected, grounded, and grateful for life.
Everything Is in Flux
As we go into this new season, we have fall approaching. It’s the end of September, and as the season is changing, I’m simply noticing these simple things.
The leaves beneath my feet.
The decaying matter all around me.
Change, I think, is a good thing.
To be in flux, to be in change—this, to me, is where pure happiness is found.
For me to confine myself to only being a street photographer and only photographing people would honestly become a complete bore.
Photography would become a chore if I continued forcing myself to perform in a certain way.
Going into the winter season this year, remind yourself as a photographer to change, to evolve, to photograph, and to experience new things.
36 Frames Complete
I just finished the 36th frame on today’s beautiful photo walk here in Bartram’s Garden.
Not much light. Pretty cloudy day. Fall is coming soon.
But it reminds me that there’s infinite potential all around me.
Despite whether or not the light is great, despite whether or not I find something extravagant or some spectacular scene to photograph, I find that my curiosity is what’s guiding me.
Through surrounding myself in nature, going on these small hikes, and photographing these small details, I’m simply fueling my love for life.
Ultimately, that’s what I want my photography to be:
A direct reflection of my gratitude and appreciation for life itself.
Through these images, I hope you can feel that presence in the pictures.
Now we’re going to return home to my studio, go through the work, and create the full zine.
Turning 36 Photographs Into a Zine
I just got home from making photographs at Bartram’s Garden, and I’m currently on the iPad Pro.
I finished going through all of the photographs and added them to a folder in the built-in Photos app.
Now I’m ready to create the zine.
All you have to do is visit the link in the description for the Flux Issue Generator.
Give the issue a title, add your name, and then click the area where it tells you to drop 36 photographs.
Go to your photo library, select the photographs that you would like to include in the zine, and click Generate Flux Issue PDF.
It automatically compresses the images, gathers the metadata from each individual image, and timestamps and sequences the zine chronologically.
The photograph is captioned with the time, date, and your name. There’s also an issue or sequence number at the top right with the title of the work.
In the back, there’s a simple contact sheet alongside a manifest document with each individual photograph.
Then all I’m left to do is print the work.
You can also submit this work for review. Add the title, your email, the location and date, and a little description of the photographs you made.
I can receive the work you create, print it at home, and review it here on my YouTube channel.
I’m looking forward to seeing your submissions.
The Final Zine
Here we have the final zine.
This is the cover: Bartram’s Garden, with the date and my name.
I store all of the work inside these manila folders, and it’s the final touch to completing my zine.
As you flip the work open, we have the protocol page, basically describing what Flux is and how the zines are made.
Then we have the first photograph on the right-hand side, exposing for the highlights of these beautiful flowers and crushing the shadows in the background.
Today, I’m thinking about how photography is all about curiosity.
The goal of the photographer, I believe, is to increase your curiosity.
To be in the moment.
To be aware.
To be present.
To be engaged with your surroundings.
Because there’s infinite possibility for your photography despite where you may be in the world.
The Audacity to Find Meaning in the Mundane
Today’s example is me walking through Bartram’s Garden on this very mundane day where there was no striking light.
It was a very cloudy day.
But I’m still looking closely and feeling deeply when I’m in the moment making pictures of things.
I’m looking beneath my feet.
I’m looking at the leaves.
I’m gazing up at the tree canopy.
By removing this goal of making great photos—or even removing a preconceived notion of what I should be making photos of—I simply enter the flow state of making new work.
When I’m in the park, I’m in a very typical location.
You too can find yourself in a location similar to this and make work.
It requires curiosity, however.
It requires the audacity to find meaning in the mundane.
I believe that’s something we can all achieve.
I wanted this video to be a reminder that there’s something beautiful outside of your window.
It requires you to go out there and step into the flow.
Step into that stream of becoming through clicking the shutter, through making work, through saying yes to life.
To me, that’s what photography is all about.
It’s not about the outcome of these images being great or leaving a sensational response on a viewer.
It’s about the way photography gets me closer to life and engaged with reality.
That’s why I’m so grateful for this practice of making photographs.
It keeps me grounded in the now.
36 Photographs in Under Half an Hour
The back of each zine has a contact sheet and a manifest document describing each individual photograph.
I started photographing at 4:50 and finished photographing at 5:28.
So this work was made in under an hour.
36 pictures, an automatically generated zine, chronologically timestamped and sequenced, using very accessible materials: printer paper and a laser printer.
You too can participate in this practice.
I’m looking forward to seeing your submissions.
Please use the link in the description to generate your own issue and submit the work to me.
With that being said, thank you for watching, and I will see you in the next video.
I’m currently out here photographing in this mundane park, and I’m thinking today about why you shouldn’t be dependent on your location for your photography.
When I’m photographing out here, I’m looking up at the sky as the content that’s within my frame. I’m looking down beneath my feet at the leaves and the way the light casts upon things.
I’m finding infinite fascination and curiosity within the mundane world around me.
And so don’t be dependent on a story.
Don’t be dependent on your location.
Don’t be dependent on something external from you and your photography.
Actually cultivate that inner curiosity.
Because when you become curious about the world around you, you’ll actually start photographing.
You don’t need to go somewhere else.
You don’t need to wait for something interesting to happen.
You can just look at what’s already around you.
Right now, I’m looking up at the light peering between the clouds and making some photographs.
Dialectic behavior is behavior based on dialogue between opposing or contrasting ideas, where each side is examined to reach a clearer or more developed understanding.
For example, instead of simply insisting, “I’m right,” dialectical behavior might be:
“I think this is true, but I can see the argument for the opposite. How can both perspectives inform what’s actually going on?”
Dialectic comes from Greek dialektikē, relating to discussion or the art of reasoning through dialogue.
In everyday usage, dialectical thinking/behavior often means being able to hold apparently contradictory ideas at once, such as: “I accept the situation as it is, and I also want to change it.”
Welcome to Flux Archive Session Number 9, where I look through another collection of photographs I’ve made recently.
These photographs were made between September and October of 2023, and this issue was created using my Flux Generator. You can upload 36 photographs and create your own chronologically sequenced, timestamped zine exactly like this.
If you enjoy this work, you can print the PDF at home using the link below.
Today I want to talk about something that’s become central to my practice:
Photograph your hometown. Photograph wherever you are right now.
The Power of Familiar Streets
Every photograph in this issue was made in Philadelphia, the city where I was born and raised.
What’s interesting about photographing your hometown is that, over time, you begin to understand it in a completely different way.
You know where the light arrives.
You know when people begin filling the streets.
You know the backgrounds.
You know the rhythm.
That familiarity allows you to stop thinking so much and simply respond to your instincts.
Repetition Creates Instinct
This photograph was made on Market Street.
I’ve walked this same street every day for years.
It’s wide.
It’s busy.
People are constantly moving between the shops, the bus stops, and the sidewalks.
Because I know the street so well, I was able to recognize the man with the phone, the person behind him near Dunkin’, and the woman approaching from the right.
By positioning myself carefully, I could compress all of those elements into one frame.
That’s the gift of repetition.
The more you return to the same place, the more naturally photographs begin revealing themselves.
Infinite Novelty
People often worry they’ll become bored photographing the same streets.
I find the opposite.
Even though my surroundings become familiar, life itself never repeats.
Every day brings new gestures.
New people.
New light.
New possibilities.
The external location doesn’t have to change.
Your sensitivity to life is what matters.
There’s infinite novelty in the ordinary when you stay open.
Finding Your Rhythm
Returning to the same locations again and again helps you find your own rhythm as a photographer.
Moments begin arriving naturally.
You’re no longer chasing photographs.
You’re simply ready when they appear.
One moment it might be children playing with toy swords.
The next it’s someone resting on a park bench.
The photographs come because you’re present.
Photography as a Visual Diary
Photography has become my diary.
I’m making self-portraits.
Photographing the skyline from the train.
Recording ordinary moments throughout my day.
Doing this gives my life purpose.
It gives my days meaning.
And I think it’s important to remember:
Photograph for yourself first.
Don’t photograph for an audience.
Don’t photograph for likes.
You’re the person who will return home, print the work, and revisit those memories years from now.
Make photographs that matter to you.
Become the Archivist of Your City
Photographing Philadelphia has given me a much deeper appreciation for where I come from.
I think about the history of this city.
The people.
The neighborhoods.
The constant changes happening every day.
I like thinking of myself as an archivist.
Not because I’m documenting objective history, but because I’m preserving fleeting moments that may never exist again.
That simple mindset has given my practice enormous meaning.
Embrace Everyone
Street photography has taught me to embrace humanity.
I don’t care who someone is.
Where they come from.
How they dress.
Whether they’re walking out of church or covered in tattoos.
Photography has taught me to engage openly with everyone.
To start conversations.
To remain curious.
To approach people without judgment.
It’s one of the greatest gifts this practice has given me.
Photograph Mood
Not every photograph has to tell a story.
Sometimes I’m simply chasing a feeling.
These photographs were made around Halloween.
Storm clouds.
Skeleton decorations.
Dark streets.
Simple gestures.
High-contrast black and white naturally creates mystery and drama.
Even an ordinary hand.
Someone making pretzels inside Reading Terminal Market.
Or light falling across a building can evoke emotion.
Light Never Repeats
One of the reasons I can photograph Philadelphia endlessly is because light is always changing.
Buildings remain the same.
The streets remain the same.
But light never does.
Every day the shadows move.
Clouds shift.
Weather changes.
Seasons arrive.
Photography is fundamentally unrepeatable.
That’s what keeps me curious.
Finding Meaning in the Mundane
I often photograph the view outside my window.
The skyline.
Clouds rolling overhead.
Ordinary moments.
Some people would see nothing.
But photography has taught me to find infinite meaning inside everyday life.
The mundane is endlessly interesting when you’re paying attention.
Be Patient
One photograph in this issue began with only two elements.
A skeleton graffiti face.
A police officer.
That was enough.
But I stayed.
As a bus passed, the advertisements and stripes aligned perfectly with the officer, adding something I never could have planned.
That’s the reward for staying present.
The same thing happened outside Reading Terminal Market.
I noticed a woman on her phone.
Then another gesture appeared.
Then another.
The spontaneous interactions completed the photograph.
The surprises are always there.
You simply have to remain patient enough to receive them.
Walk the Same Streets
Today my practice is built around instinct.
That instinct came from repetition.
From walking the same streets.
From returning every day.
From trusting the process.
Eventually you stop thinking.
You simply photograph.
Time disappears.
You’re completely present.
And somehow…
Even though you walk the exact same route every single day…
You never make the same photograph twice.
Your hometown contains infinite possibilities if you’re willing to keep looking.
Thanks for joining me for Flux Archive 009.
If you’d like to create your own Flux zine, upload 36 photographs using the Flux Generator linked below.
If I enjoy the work, I may review it here on the YouTube channel.
Welcome to Flux Weekly Witness, where I look at the photographs you submit to me in the Flux community.
Today we’re looking at a body of work from Pietro Maltini from Southwest England. These photographs were made throughout June and July of 2026.
Without further ado, let’s jump right into it.
Photography as an Archive
Right away, we’re introduced to this simple frame of a cat isolated inside an alleyway.
It’s a quiet photograph.
The composition naturally guides your eye toward the cat, and immediately you begin noticing the gritty textures of the city.
As I looked through this body of work, one idea kept coming back to me.
Photography can become an act of archiving your town.
Graffiti.
Construction sites.
Storefronts.
Old buildings.
Scooters.
Rental bikes.
These things are constantly changing.
One day they’ll disappear.
Photography gives us a way to preserve that fleeting change.
Preserving Everyday Life
Even simple photographs of restaurants, signs, storefronts, and public squares become more valuable over time.
The 15% student discount.
The chairs outside the café.
The architecture beside modern cars.
These details may seem ordinary today, but years from now they’ll become documents of what life actually looked like.
Sometimes photography isn’t about finding extraordinary moments.
Sometimes it’s simply about preserving ordinary ones.
Finding Beauty Through Light
One photograph immediately stood out because of the way the light divided the frame.
Bright light on one side.
Deep shadow on the other.
Flags hanging overhead.
Leading lines quietly pulling your eye through the composition.
There isn’t much happening, yet the photograph feels full of mystery.
Simple observations can go a very long way.
Black and White Loves Texture
Throughout the sequence, gritty textures continue appearing.
Graffiti.
Stone walls.
Construction.
Clouds.
Old architecture.
Black and white photography naturally emphasizes these surfaces, revealing details that color often distracts from.
The city itself becomes the subject.
Technical Perfection Isn’t Everything
There’s one close-up photograph of the cat that’s completely out of focus.
Normally you’d expect that to weaken the image.
Instead, I actually think it strengthens it.
The blur introduces emotion.
The eyes become graphic shapes.
The photograph feels instinctive rather than technically perfect.
Sometimes feeling matters more than perfection.
Buildings Tell Stories Too
Street photography doesn’t always need people.
The buildings we inhabit say just as much about us.
Looking through Pietro’s photographs gives me a better understanding of where he lives and what life looked like on that exact morning in Southwest England.
One year later, these places might already look different.
That’s one of photography’s greatest powers.
Elevating the Mundane
Another beautiful photograph uses nothing more than sunlight and shadow across a building.
The vertical framing.
The doorway.
The trees.
The light quietly transforms an ordinary scene into something memorable.
That’s the kind of observation I enjoy most.
My Favorite Frame
My favorite photograph in the sequence is actually the image of moving water.
It almost feels like a charcoal drawing.
The flowing texture.
The pipe in the center.
The layered rectangles.
The leaves entering from the foreground.
Everything works together to create something painterly rather than documentary.
It’s a simple subject that becomes extraordinary through composition.
Photography as Gratitude
One idea this body of work reminded me of is that photography can become an act of gratitude.
Watching sunlight pass through trees.
Looking at architecture.
Paying attention to the streets we walk every day.
The more present you become, the more photographs begin appearing naturally.
Photography becomes less about searching and more about noticing.
Final Thoughts
Pietro, thanks for submitting your work.
I really enjoyed looking through this collection.
If you’d like your own photographs reviewed in a future episode, create a Flux issue using the Flux Generator.
Upload 36 photographs, and they’ll automatically be organized chronologically with timestamps and assembled into your own printable issue.
Submit it, and you might see your work featured here on the YouTube channel.
Today I’m here in South Philadelphia outside of John’s Water Ice. Got myself some green apple, and I’m giving myself the ultimate challenge.
I’m going to make only 36 photographs using the Ricoh GR’s macro mode in high-contrast black and white.
The goal?
Come home and turn those 36 photographs into a complete zine.
So let’s hit the streets.
The Rules
Today’s setup is intentionally simple.
Program Mode
Macro Mode
High Contrast Black & White
Small JPEG
36 frames only
That’s it.
The only thing I touch throughout the walk is the exposure compensation.
I love this challenge because it forces me to slow down and think differently about the world around me.
Instead of searching for subjects, I start searching for textures, details, reflections, and surfaces.
When you slow down enough, you realize there’s beauty hiding everywhere.
Beauty Exists in the Mundane
Only two frames in, and already I’m noticing things I would normally walk straight past.
Macro photography changes the relationship between you and the world.
Instead of asking:
“What should I photograph?”
You begin asking:
“What happens if I get really close?”
That question alone completely changes your photography.
Abstraction as a Creative Tool
I’m shooting small JPEGs with High Contrast Black & White cranked all the way up.
I absolutely love this look because abstraction becomes the solution.
Instead of documenting reality…
I’m creating new worlds from ordinary objects.
By crushing the shadows and exposing for the highlights, familiar objects stop looking familiar.
I’m not photographing things for what they are. I’m photographing them because I’m curious what they’ll become as photographs.
That surprise is what keeps me coming back.
Why I Love the Ricoh GR
One of the best things about using a Ricoh GR—or any compact camera—is the physicality of it.
I don’t have to raise the camera to my eye.
I can simply drop low…
Hold the camera inches away from a surface…
Click the shutter…
…and discover something my naked eye never noticed.
The camera becomes an extension of my own vision.
Curiosity Creates Photographs
We stumble across this hilarious old Shrek newspaper dispenser.
There’s an old Eminem CD inside.
Shrek III.
Philadelphia Untamed Film Festival posters.
It’s this weird little world hidden in plain sight.
Moments like this remind me that photography isn’t about waiting for extraordinary scenes.
It’s about bringing curiosity into ordinary ones.
Photograph Your Backyard
This is why I love this practice.
It doesn’t require traveling.
It doesn’t require New York.
It doesn’t require Tokyo.
It simply requires paying attention.
Everything around you already contains enough visual information to build an entire body of work.
You just have to notice it.
Flow State
Only two blocks into the walk…
I’m already fourteen photographs deep.
That’s what constraints do.
The goal isn’t making masterpieces.
The goal is staying in motion.
The goal is remaining inside the flow state.
Once you stop worrying about perfection…
You simply keep photographing.
Macro Changed My Photography
For years I photographed people.
Travel.
Stories.
Street life.
But slowing down inside my own hometown and paying attention to tiny details completely transformed my practice.
Now I find inspiration everywhere.
That’s exactly why I wanted to share this challenge.
Hopefully it encourages you to start seeing your own neighborhood differently.
Build Your Own Zine
If you’d like to participate, you can join the Flux Discord community where everyone shares work, receives feedback, and participates in these creative challenges together.
You can also use the Flux Generator to automatically turn your own 36 photographs into a printable zine.
Upload your images…
Generate the PDF…
Print.
Fold.
Staple.
Done.
Playing with Exposure
The only camera setting I continuously adjust is exposure compensation.
Sometimes I’m shooting +1.7 EV.
Sometimes -0.3 EV.
I’m not chasing technical perfection.
I’m chasing atmosphere.
By intentionally blowing highlights or crushing shadows, I’m able to push reality further into abstraction.
Slow Down
I stop to photograph flowers.
Rust.
Tape peeling off walls.
A tiny bee.
Posters ripped from brick.
Infrastructure beneath my feet.
These are moments most people never notice.
Attention is the real currency of the universe.
Photography simply teaches us how to spend it better.
The Final Frames
By the time I reach the Italian Market, I only have a handful of photographs remaining.
One final flower.
Frame 36.
Challenge complete.
Thirty minutes.
Thirty-six photographs.
Time to head home.
My Complete Ricoh GR Workflow
Back in the studio, here’s exactly how I build every zine.
Step One — Import
I remove the micro SD card.
Plug it directly into the iPad using a USB-C SD reader.
I use Apple’s built-in Photos app.
No Lightroom.
No editing software.
Just import the 36 JPEGs.
Because they’re small JPEG files, everything imports almost instantly.
Step Two — Minor Adjustments
I rarely edit.
Occasionally I’ll reduce exposure slightly if large areas become pure white.
Otherwise…
The files stay exactly as they came out of the camera.
Step Three — Generate the Zine
Inside the Flux Generator…
I upload all 36 photographs.
Add the issue title.
Add my name.
Press Generate Issue PDF.
The system automatically:
sequences every photograph
extracts metadata
timestamps every frame
creates captions
builds the contact sheet
generates the printable PDF
No manual layout required.
Everything happens automatically.
Printing
I’m printing everything on regular office paper using a Brother printer.
Nothing fancy.
Just standard 20 lb copy paper.
The aesthetic is intentionally bureaucratic.
Simple materials.
Technical presentation.
Poetic photographs.
Assembly
Once printed…
I stack the pages.
Staple the spine.
Fold every spread using a bone folder.
The final pages contain:
the complete contact sheet
the shooting manifest
timestamps
sequence information
Then everything gets stored inside a simple manila folder.
Sometimes I label them using a Brother label maker or FoMimo thermal labels.
Again…
Simple.
Functional.
Beautiful.
Why Constraints Matter
The biggest lesson from today’s challenge isn’t macro photography.
It’s creative constraints.
One camera.
One mode.
One aesthetic.
Thirty-six frames.
A deadline.
Removing choices gives your creativity room to breathe.
Instead of wondering what to do…
You simply begin doing.
That momentum becomes the artwork.
Infinite Potential
The next time you head outside…
Don’t only photograph people.
Don’t only look at eye level.
Look down.
Look closer.
Photograph the wall.
Photograph rust.
Photograph tape.
Photograph leaves.
Photograph reflections.
Everything around you is photographable.
It simply requires curiosity.
By getting closer, I discover other worlds hidden inside this one.
Give yourself this challenge.
Thirty-six frames.
Macro mode.
One hour.
See what happens.
If you enjoyed this challenge, try it yourself.
Generate your own zine using the Flux Generator and submit it.
Sometimes I feature your work here on the channel.
What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante, currently reporting live from the gigantic rock that’s orbiting around this ball of fire floating through the void of space.
Welcome to Penn’s Landing.
Dante reporting live from Planet Earth.
Today’s thought is about physical vitality, photography, and the intersection between health and creativity.
A Strong Body Creates Better Work
I believe that a strong body produces better creative work.
When your body is fortified with strength and vitality, your mind naturally follows with greater clarity.
From that state, creating becomes almost effortless.
That’s why I orient nearly every part of my life around my health.
Because the better I feel physically…
The better I create.
Building a Creative Routine
My routine is very simple.
I go to bed around 9 PM every night so I can wake up before sunrise after a deep night’s sleep.
Before the sun even comes up, I’m already creating.
I’m writing.
Making videos.
Editing photographs.
Producing.
I love beginning the day from a creative state, when my energy is naturally at its highest.
Good sleep creates momentum.
That momentum carries me into creation.
Motivation Means Movement
I’ve always loved the idea that motivation comes from movere—to move.
Whether or not that’s the full linguistic history, the idea resonates with me.
The more you move…
The more motivated you become.
Photography is a physical medium.
It asks you to walk.
To explore.
To notice.
To respond.
You’re not sitting behind a desk.
You’re carrying your body through reality.
He Who Walks the Most Shall Win
One thought I return to often is this:
He who walks the most shall win.
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 curiosity creates joy.
Photography rewards movement.
Creating From an Empty State
Something I’ve noticed over the past four years is that nearly every black-and-white photograph I’ve made has been created in a fasted state.
I haven’t eaten breakfast or lunch in years.
Every photograph has been made before my first meal.
Whether or not that matters scientifically, I can’t say with certainty.
But for me personally, I’ve found that photographing while fasted leaves me feeling mentally clear and deeply focused.
When my body isn’t occupied with digestion…
My attention feels entirely available for the world around me.
Simplifying Decisions
One of the biggest enemies of creativity is decision fatigue.
The more decisions you make…
The more mental energy disappears.
So I’ve stripped my life down to the essentials.
Walking.
Sunlight.
Water.
Good sleep.
One meal each day.
A simple routine.
The fewer unnecessary decisions I make, the more energy I have for creating.
Walking Barefoot
Another habit that’s transformed my life has been walking barefoot whenever it’s practical and safe.
It has strengthened my feet.
Improved my posture.
Changed the way I walk.
Made me feel more connected to my body.
Spending more time outside, feeling the sun, and moving naturally has given me more energy throughout the day.
And that energy inevitably flows into my photography.
Photography Is a Physical Medium
Photography isn’t just about composition.
It isn’t just about understanding light.
Those things matter.
But before any of that…
Photography requires courage.
It requires curiosity.
And above all…
It requires movement.
You have to physically place yourself into the world.
You have to show up.
Vitality Creates Better Photographs
The more energy you have…
The longer you’ll stay outside.
The more you’ll explore.
The more opportunities you’ll discover.
Photography rewards people who continue moving.
That’s why I believe physical vitality isn’t separate from creativity.
It’s the foundation beneath it.
Final Thoughts
For me, photography begins long before I press the shutter.
It begins with how I sleep.
How I move.
How I care for my body.
How much time I spend outdoors.
Health isn’t something separate from my creative practice.
It’s part of the process.
The stronger my body becomes…
The more freely I can move through the world.
And the more freely I move…
The more photographs I’m able to make.
Photography is physical.
And because of that, I choose to prioritize health and vitality every single day.
