Flux Archive 001 — Why I Switched to Black & White Photography
Flux Archive 001 — Why I Switched to Black & White Photography
What’s popping, people? It’s Dante.
Welcome to today’s Flux Archive session where I’m going to look through some of my photographs and simply talk about them candidly.
Here we have Flux Issue 001. These are photographs I made during my early journey in black and white photography, from November 2022 through February 2023. These were some of my very first experiments after completely changing the way I approached photography.
Returning From Vietnam Changed Everything
When I came home from Hanoi, Vietnam, I was still photographing in color.
I was looking for my next best photograph.
I was walking through bustling markets, searching for interesting moments, practicing within the realm of documentary photography, always hunting for something visually compelling.
When I returned home, I completely transformed my practice.
I sold all of my Fujifilm equipment and picked up the Ricoh GR.
From that point forward I began shooting JPEGs in a high-contrast black and white workflow.
It completely transformed the way I experience life and the way I see the world.
I stopped looking for my next best photograph.
Instead, I began affirming that my next photograph is my best photograph.
Photography became a visual diary.
“I went from looking for my next best photo to affirming my next photo as my best photo.”
Photography Needed To Become Sustainable
As soon as I got back from Vietnam, I realized I needed to change my process if I wanted photography to remain part of my life for the long term.
I found it exhausting to constantly go out hoping to make something.
Always searching.
Always hunting.
Always feeling like I needed to find the perfect photograph.
It kept me from actually living.
Now I simply carry the Ricoh GR in my pocket, live my everyday life, photograph what I naturally encounter, and honestly…
I don’t take photography that seriously anymore.
Ironically, that’s exactly what made my photographs stronger.
The Beginning Of Flux
The first frame in this issue was made during the Thanksgiving Day Parade when the fountain opened in Logan Square here in Philadelphia.
A young boy climbing on the Native American sculpture.
The relationship between the hands.
The gesture.
A simple, elegant frame to begin this journey.
From there…
Christmas Village in Center City.
People dancing.
A man with a cross tattoo bending down along Walnut Street.
Reading Terminal Market.
Shafts of light.
Once I switched to black and white, I wasn’t only focused on humanity anymore.
I started paying attention to the mundane.
Light.
Landscapes.
Simple moments.
Things directly in front of me.
Learning To Let Life Come To Me
Some photographs were made while riding my bike.
Others while walking home as it started raining.
Everything became much more instinctive.
In the past I spent a lot of time thinking about composition.
Foreground.
Background.
Balance.
Structure.
Those lessons were valuable.
But with this new process, I intentionally started breaking those habits.
The photographs became less perfect.
Some frames tilt.
Some feel accidental.
Some only show fragments of people.
Because now I’m treating photography like a visual diary instead of trying to construct perfect images.
I’m no longer hunting.
I’m letting life flow toward me.
And I think that naturally reveals itself in the photographs.
Finding Beauty In The Mundane
You’ll notice clouds.
Buildings.
People standing in front of walls.
Weather.
Shadows.
Reflections.
I’m looking upward at skyscrapers.
Looking downward at the ground.
Paying attention to everything.
The biggest takeaway from this first body of work is simple:
Black and white creatively liberated me.
It returned me to day one.
It gave me permission to play again.
And I think that’s ultimately where I want to stay.
Using photography simply to fuel curiosity.
Curiosity Is The Entire Game
My process is simple.
I crush the shadows.
I expose for the highlights.
Then I let the camera surprise me.
Sometimes faces emerge beautifully from darkness.
Sometimes backgrounds disappear entirely.
Sometimes the abstraction created by black and white reveals something I never expected.
Those surprises are what keep me coming back every single day.
“I’m simply curious about what life looks like when it’s photographed.”
That curiosity feels endless.
Photographing Differently
I’m no longer limited to horizontal photographs.
Sometimes I hold the camera high overhead.
Sometimes I shoot vertically.
Sometimes I’m looking at birds.
Street signs.
Power lines.
Shoes hanging from wires.
The back of someone’s head.
Tiny gestures.
Small details.
Macro mode.
Things I would have completely ignored before.
My primary interest is still humanity.
But humanity isn’t only faces.
It’s posture.
Movement.
Hands.
Clothing.
Texture.
Presence.
Infinite Possibility
Front-facing portraits.
Single isolated figures.
Close-up details.
Clouds.
Architecture.
Decay.
Rain.
Light falling across buildings.
A tarp covering a parked car.
The Eagles parade.
Everything became worth photographing.
By stripping away color, I found infinite possibility inside everyday life.
Whether it’s sunny…
Cloudy…
Raining…
It doesn’t matter anymore.
I no longer wait for perfect light.
I’m interested in how light simply exists.
Three And A Half Years Later
I’ve now been photographing this way for over three and a half years.
It has completely transformed how I experience everyday life.
It has brought me more joy than any previous way of working.
Over the coming weeks we’ll continue looking through my work.
We’ll also review photographs submitted by members of the community.
My hope is to help orient you toward a sustainable photographic practice.
One that removes friction.
One that keeps you making photographs for decades.
Removing Friction From Photography
The entire system I’ve built revolves around removing unnecessary decisions.
- A compact camera.
- Automatic settings.
- JPEG processing baked into the file.
- Culling on an iPhone or iPad.
- Publishing to my own website.
- No dependence on Instagram.
Every step removes friction.
Every step makes photography easier to return to.
More joyful.
More authentic.
Your Style Comes From Instinct
I believe you and I can use the exact same workflow and still produce completely different bodies of work.
Because style isn’t created through aesthetic decisions.
It isn’t color versus black and white.
It isn’t presets.
It isn’t editing.
Your style emerges after you’ve removed as many decisions as possible.
When all that’s left is instinct.
I’ve reduced photography to a black box.
A shutter button.
Light.
Shadow.
Pure instinct.
That’s where I believe your real photographic voice begins.
“Your style as a photographer isn’t something that arises through aesthetic decisions. It arises through removing decisions and cultivating instinct.”
Hopefully sharing this process helps you discover that for yourself.
I hope we can all continue making work together and find more joy through photography.
Peace.
Why Simplifying Your Photography Process Will Make You a Better Photographer
Why Simplifying Your Photography Process Will Make You a Better Photographer
What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante.
This morning I want to share why simplifying your photography process will make you a more joyful photographer.
Over the past 12 years I’ve been photographing out in the streets, exploring the world, photographing in both color and black and white.
One thing I’ve realized is that the process itself can become the biggest obstacle.
Sometimes photography creates more chores than creativity. More burden than flow.
When you simplify the practice, photography becomes something you can seamlessly integrate into your everyday life instead of something that constantly demands your attention.
The simpler the process, the easier it becomes to simply live—and make photographs along the way.
Keep Your Camera Simple
The first practical suggestion is to simplify your camera and editing workflow.
I personally use the Ricoh GR IV Monochrome.
My settings are incredibly simple:
- AV or P Mode
- Automatic exposure
- JPEG only
- High-contrast processing baked directly into the file
I simply point and shoot.
No second guessing.
No endless menu diving.
No RAW files waiting to be processed later.
Cull Your Photos on an iPad or iPhone
When I get home, I transfer everything to my iPad Pro using the built-in Photos app.
I organize everything using simple folders based on the date the photographs were made.
As I scroll through small thumbnails, I simply tap the Favorite icon on the images I want to keep.
That’s it.
The only accessory you need is:
- USB-C SD card reader
- Lightning SD reader (depending on your device)
I genuinely think:
Compact cameras + JPEG workflows + mobile devices are the future of keeping photography simple.
Removing Lightroom from my workflow has completely transformed how I experience photography.
I don’t have to think about:
- Which camera
- Which lens
- Which focal length
- Which preset
- Which RAW settings
Everything is already finished when I make the photograph.
Print Your Work Immediately
The next step is printing.
I’ve developed an entire system around making physical books at home.
Every body of work becomes its own zine.
Each issue is titled with the dates the photographs were made.
The photographs are stored inside simple manila folders.
Each page is printed on ordinary 8.5 x 11 copy paper using an inexpensive monochrome Brother laser printer.
Every photograph includes:
- Photographer name
- Time
- Date
- Automatic sequencing
At the back of every publication is:
- Contact sheet
- Manifest
- QR code linking to the complete online archive
Everything flows automatically.
I Actually Prefer Cheap Home Prints
I’ve experimented with print-on-demand services like Blurb.
They’re enjoyable.
But honestly…
I don’t enjoy making those books nearly as much as I enjoy printing my work at home.
Waiting for shipping.
Using extra software.
Exporting files.
Formatting layouts.
All of those little steps introduce friction.
I’d rather come home, print the work immediately, and have a finished book in my hands within the hour.
The imperfections of a monochrome laser printer have become part of the aesthetic.
I actually love them.
Why I Left Color Photography
This collection contains nearly seven years of photographing around the world.
Looking back, I realized something.
Color photography demanded much more from me.
Lighting became critical.
Time of day mattered.
The colors themselves could either make or break the photograph.
Most of my strongest color photographs were made under beautiful light.
Golden hour.
Interesting color relationships.
Everything had to align.
That isn’t necessarily bad.
It taught me discipline.
But it was also much harder.
After seven years, I produced only around fifty photographs that I truly felt belonged together.
That realization changed everything.
Black and White Made Photography Infinite
When I switched to high-contrast monochrome, something unexpected happened.
Instead of documenting reality…
I became curious about abstraction.
Light and shadow began revealing things I couldn’t predict.
The surprise inside the frame became the reason I kept going back outside.
Now I’m photographing:
- Inanimate objects
- Landscapes
- Quiet moments
- Ordinary gestures
- Mundane scenes
Things I probably would’ve walked past before.
Color often made me dependent on finding something interesting.
Black and white made everything interesting.
By stripping away color, I found infinite potential.
Curiosity Is Everything
The most important part of my process isn’t the camera.
It isn’t the workflow.
It isn’t even the prints.
It’s curiosity.
Photography should continually make you want to go back outside.
Every evening I look through my photographs wondering:
“What surprised me today?”
Then I wake up wanting to experience that feeling again.
That’s why simplifying my process has been so powerful.
I’ve reduced photography to:
- Light
- Shadow
- Instinct
Nothing else.
Photography has become a visual diary.
Instead of searching for photographs…
I’m simply living my life.
The camera just comes along for the ride.
Remove Decision Fatigue
Today I photograph:
- Vertical
- Horizontal
- Portraits
- Objects
- Landscapes
- Street scenes
Everything feels open.
Everything feels possible.
The goal is no longer to think.
The goal is simply to move.
To shoot.
To become immersed in flow.
When you remove decision fatigue, photography starts feeling effortless.
My Current Everyday System
This entire workflow is intentionally minimal.
Equipment:
- Ricoh GR IV Monochrome
- iPhone or iPad
- USB SD card reader
- Brother MFC-L2820DW monochrome laser printer
- Third-party toner cartridges
- Standard office copy paper
That’s it.
No complicated studio.
No massive archive of hard drives.
No endless software.
Just make photographs.
Print them.
Enjoy them.
The Flux System
I’ve created over thirty Flux publications using this workflow.
On flux.dantesisofo.com, you can:
- Generate your own Flux issue
- Drag and drop 36 photographs
- Add your title
- Add your photographer name
- Automatically generate your publication
- Submit it to the Flux archive
You can also browse my complete archive or create your own zines using my photographs for inspiration.
The goal was simple.
Reduce friction.
Increase creativity.
Carry a Tiny Sketchbook
Another simple suggestion.
Carry a tiny passport notebook.
I use a Muji Passport Memo.
Inside I keep miniature photo prints made using the Canon Selphy CP1500.
Eight photographs fit onto one 4×6 sheet.
I simply cut them out and paste them inside.
Instead of handing someone your Instagram…
Hand them your little sketchbook.
People remember physical photographs.
Photography Should Feel Effortless
At the end of the day, I don’t think photography needs to be complicated.
We do this because we enjoy doing it.
If the process gets in the way of living your life…
Simplify it.
If something stops you from wanting to photograph…
Remove it.
For me that meant:
- Removing color
- Removing RAW files
- Removing Lightroom
- Removing unnecessary decisions
Now all that’s left is:
Light.
Shadow.
Instinct.
Curiosity.
Photography has become effortless.
And because it’s effortless…
I photograph more.
I walk more.
I notice more.
I become more curious.
The goal isn’t making better photographs. The goal is building a process that makes you want to keep making photographs for the rest of your life.
Hopefully something here inspires you to simplify your own process and ultimately find more joy in your everyday photography.
Thanks for watching.
Peace.
Times Are Hard for the Hopeful | Flux Weekly Witness #10
Times Are Hard for the Hopeful | Flux Weekly Witness
What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante.




































Welcome to this week’s Flux Weekly Witness, where I look at the photographs submitted by members of the Flux community.
Today we’re looking at “Times Are Hard for the Hopeful” by Matt Newman.
These photographs were made between January 1, 2025 and June 23, 2026 in Frankston, Australia.
Matt, thank you for submitting your work.
Let’s get right into it.
What Is Flux?
Flux is a chronological publishing system that I’ve developed on my website.
If you’d like to create your own zines at home, visit flux.dantesisofo.com, click the Tools tab, and open the Flux Generator.
You can upload 36 JPEG files and automatically generate your own photographic zine.
The only limitations I ask are:
- Monochrome photography only
- The work should be sequenced chronologically
I’m intentionally constraining this community around monochrome photography, and I also print these zines on a monochrome laser printer, so the aesthetic stays consistent across everyone’s work.
Now let’s take a look.
A Body of Work About Isolation and Hope
Right away we’re introduced to a lonely pigeon framed between two fences.
Immediately after, we encounter a photograph depicting tragedy—a man asleep beside his shopping cart outside a pawn shop advertising Cash for Gold.
The title, Times Are Hard for the Hopeful, is felt almost immediately.
It’s actually the reason I chose this body of work.
I think it’s important as street photographers that we don’t only photograph joyful moments, children playing, or family life.
Life is far more complicated than that.
This work embraces those complexities.
Throughout the sequence we encounter struggle, isolation, loneliness, and alienation.
A lone figure disappears into the distance.
Rain-soaked pavement reflects the light.
Murals, alleyways, empty streets, and quiet nighttime scenes all contribute to an emotional atmosphere of solitude.
Photographing Humanity With Empathy
One of the things I appreciate most about Matt’s work is that it never feels exploitative.
There’s empathy here.
We see portraits of people living difficult lives, but they’re photographed with dignity.
One image, in particular, really stands out.
Rather than revealing the identity of a man sleeping rough, the photograph focuses on the elegant gesture created by his hands and arms.
Compositionally it’s beautiful.
Emotionally it’s devastating.
The balance between making a visually compelling photograph while also creating emotional resonance is incredibly difficult to achieve.
Matt does that consistently throughout this work.
There are clear moments where he’s spoken to people and asked permission to make portraits.
That human connection comes through in the photographs.
Looking Beyond People
The work isn’t built entirely around portraits.
There are pigeons in flight.
Cracked glass.
Graffiti.
Rainwater pouring from a ceiling.
Empty alleyways.
Broken infrastructure.
These quieter details become just as important as the people themselves.
The monochrome laser printing adds another layer of texture that I really enjoy physically.
If you’re curious about this body of work, I encourage you to print it out yourself.
The tactile quality is part of the experience.
The Serendipity of Chronological Sequencing
One of the exciting parts of using the Flux Generator is that everything is sequenced chronologically.
Unexpected relationships begin to appear naturally.
Here we have cracked glass paired with a tiger tattoo on the back of someone’s head.
The two centered compositions work beautifully together.
These are moments you don’t necessarily plan.
They’re discovered through sequencing.
That’s one of the things I love about this publishing system.
Finding Emotion in Empty Spaces
Even when people disappear from the frame, the emotional tone remains.
A waterfall pours from a parking garage ceiling.
Simple graffiti catches the light.
A discarded mattress sits beneath a bridge.
A security camera sign hangs above it.
There’s something incredibly bleak about that relationship.
The photographs aren’t simply documenting urban environments.
They’re communicating a feeling.
Seeing the Overlooked
Throughout the work we meet people who exist outside conventional expectations.
Individuals expressing themselves in unique ways.
People carrying visible signs of hardship.
Characters with tattoos, piercings, weathered hands, worn boots, and tired faces.
Matt approaches all of them with empathy.
Life isn’t always sunshine and rainbows.
I think it’s important that photography reflects that reality.
As photographers, we shouldn’t avoid difficult subjects simply because someone tells us we shouldn’t photograph them.
Photograph everything.
Strong Compositions Support Strong Emotions
What impressed me wasn’t only the emotional content.
The compositions are excellent.
There’s a photograph of a man smoking with a cane that uses an enormous amount of negative space.
Normally that might feel empty.
Instead, the vent above him creates enough visual tension to balance the entire frame.
Little decisions like that matter.
Another portrait places a man in front of an advertisement while, opposite it, a photograph of flowers becomes almost abstract through reflections and contrast.
The flowers appear to float in space.
It’s a beautiful pairing.
Filling the Frame
One of my favorite spreads includes a close-up of a cigarette held by a rough, weathered hand opposite a portrait of a man looking downward.
The emotional relationship between the photographs is powerful.
Compositionally they’re equally strong.
The hand occupies nearly half the frame.
The cigarette becomes the center of attention.
Behind it, the wheel of a bus fills the remaining space with shape, light, and contrast.
Matt isn’t only photographing emotion.
He’s filling the frame intentionally.
That balance is difficult to achieve.
So shout out to you, Matt.
Paying Attention to Detail
Throughout the sequence there are wonderful detail photographs.
A bird captured at exactly the right moment.
A discarded gravestone lying across scattered bricks.
The subtle relationship between that image and the following photograph of boots decorated with skulls creates another beautiful visual conversation across the page.
These little discoveries reward slow viewing.
That’s one of the strengths of this body of work.
Final Thoughts
Today’s Flux Weekly Witness comes from Frankston, Australia.
I’d never heard of the location before, but I really appreciate you submitting your work.
Times Are Hard for the Hopeful is a thoughtful body of work that balances empathy, strong composition, and emotional honesty.
Thank you again, Matt.
Submit Your Own Flux Zine
If you’d like me to review your work here on the channel, head over to flux.dantesisofo.com.
Go to the Tools tab and open the Flux Generator.
Generate your PDF, click the Submission tab, and send it through.
If I enjoy the work, I’ll print it, review it here on the channel, and share it with the community.
If your submission is accepted, you’ll also receive an invitation to join the Flux Community Discord.
If you’d rather join immediately, you can also become a member here on YouTube and receive access that way.
I know I keep comments and likes turned off on this channel.
That isn’t because I don’t want community.
It’s because I want to cultivate authenticity and stay focused on sharing the work that matters to me.
The Flux Community is where those conversations happen.
Thanks again for watching.
I’ll see you in the next video.
Peace.
The Secret to Better Street Photography: Stop Chasing Great Photos
Stop Chasing Great Photos
What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante, currently walking around Center City Philadelphia.
Today I’m thinking about goals—and why the goal of your creative practice, whether you’re making photographs, videos, drawings, paintings, or sculptures, should be fulfilled within the process itself.
I think this is one of the most important mindset shifts any creative person can make.
Too often we chase the outcome.
A great photograph.
An impactful moment.
Perfect light.
Perfect composition.
Perfect timing.
But those moments are rare.
That’s not to say you can’t create meaningful work. It’s simply recognizing that the only way to arrive at those moments is to stay fully engaged in the experience itself.
The photograph is never the goal. Presence is.
The Goal Is Movement
As photographers, I believe the ultimate goal is incredibly simple:
Move your body.
The more you walk, the more you see.
The more you see, the more you photograph.
The more you photograph, the more curious you become.
And ultimately, I think curiosity is the true orientation of photography.
The goal isn’t making a masterpiece.
The goal is fulfilled through:
- Walking.
- Exploring.
- Noticing.
- Making work.
Sometimes the greatest success isn’t the photograph you bring home.
Sometimes it’s simply that you went outside.
Curiosity Creates Longevity
It takes a long time spent in the world before something truly interesting reveals itself.
That’s why curiosity matters so much.
Curiosity gives you longevity.
It’s what allows you to return day after day without burning out.
That’s what I’ve tried to cultivate in my own practice:
A sustainable rhythm that I can repeat every single day.
Reduce Decisions
One practical suggestion is to create a routine.
Know where you’re walking.
Know your destination.
Give yourself a direction.
When you eliminate unnecessary decisions, something interesting happens.
You stop hesitating.
When you stop hesitating, you stop thinking.
When you stop thinking, you start doing.
Photography is instinct.
Photography Is Physical
I also think it’s important to recognize just how physical photography really is.
Every photograph is simply the result of:
- Your position relative to the subject.
- The moment you press the shutter.
That’s it.
The art isn’t only in seeing.
It’s in walking.
It’s in positioning yourself.
It’s in responding.
Recognizing this physical aspect of photography is incredibly important.
Play Instead of Performance
If you’re walking…
If you’re observing…
If you’re responding with your camera…
If you’re doing it every day with a spirit of play…
Then I think it’s inevitable that you’ll eventually create work with meaning.
Whether that meaning is visual or emotional doesn’t really matter.
It reveals itself over time.
I think movement itself is the artist’s true practice.
Whether that’s physically walking or slowly working away at a drawing, the important thing is simply that you’re engaged in the act.
Even if today’s work isn’t great.
Remove Good and Bad
The work I enjoy most isn’t necessarily the work that performs the best.
It’s simply the work that I genuinely enjoy looking at.
And that’s incredibly subjective.
When you stop labeling your work as good or bad, you create space for something authentic to emerge.
That’s where your own voice begins.
Return to Childhood
Photography should feel like play.
Every morning is another opportunity to become someone new.
To evolve.
To change.
To remain in flux.
I genuinely believe joy is found through movement.
Not through arriving.
You never want to feel like you’ve reached the peak.
Return to day one every day.
Remain a beginner forever.
Remain an amateur.
Interestingly enough, if you look at the word amateur, it simply means to love.
If you continue making work because you love it—not because of money, fame, or recognition—you’ll inevitably create something that feels authentically yours.
Show Up Every Day
If you’re trying to cultivate your own way of seeing…
Detach from the outcome.
Find meaning in showing up.
Walk.
Observe.
Respond.
Produce.
The act itself is enough.
The Greatest Gift
Personally, I find the greatest gift isn’t even the photographs.
It’s simply being outside.
Fresh air.
The sun on your skin.
Meeting strangers.
Seeing beautiful people.
Seeing beautiful light.
Remaining present.
From that state of presence, life occasionally offers you something extraordinary.
Your only job is to be there when it happens.
Camera in hand.
Ready to respond.
Photography Is an Excuse to Look Closely
Photography has become one of my favorite ways to experience life.
Not because of the photographs.
Because it gives me permission to look closely.
To notice.
To feel deeply.
The camera becomes a vessel.
Life delivers.
You respond.
That’s all there is.
The Autotelic Approach
Ultimately, I think the goal is presence.
Being aware.
Being ready.
Responding without hesitation.
Detach from the outcome.
Embrace an autotelic approach to photography—finding meaning, fulfillment, and purpose within the act itself.
Within the art of walking.
Within noticing.
Within photographing.
That’s the thought of the day.
If you’d like to submit work for a review, check out the link in the description to create your own zine.
Submit 36 images, and if I enjoy the work, I’ll print it and review it here on the YouTube channel.
Submitting also gives you access to the Flux Community Discord.
Otherwise, you can simply click Join next to the Subscribe button here on YouTube to become part of the community.
Thank you for watching.
I’ll see you in the next video.
Peace.
Prune your diseased parts so you can bear good fruits


Prune the Diseased Parts
Prune your diseased parts so you can bear good fruits.
Assume everyone is diseased?
If we assume that most people are diseased—imperfect, wounded, misled—which, in some sense, we all are, then maybe it’s best not to let others infect your spirit. Don’t let the sickness of another drag you down. Don’t absorb their rot.
We, as philosophers, are like spiritual doctors. But before we can heal others, we must heal ourselves.
That means turning inward.
Facing the shadow.
Cutting away the dead and diseased parts of ourselves.
And once we’ve done that—once we’ve been through the fire and come out cleaner, sharper, lighter—we can go out into the world and offer something good. Something nourishing. Something fruitful.
Heal yourself. Bear good fruit.
How Solitude and Sacrifice Lead to True Love
How Solitude and Sacrifice Lead to True Love
What’s poppin, people? It’s Dante.
Getting my morning started here in the Centennial Arboretum.
I’m in the most historic park in America.
This is it. This is the heart of Philadelphia.
Think about it…
- All the trees planted throughout Fairmount Park
- One of the biggest city parks on the East Coast
- Maybe even bigger than Central Park
Welcome to the heart of the city.
And today?
I’m thinking about love and what that means to me.
Finding Love in Solitude
For the last 3–4 years, I’ve lived mostly alone.
And what’s wild is…
“Despite not feeling love from the external world, I feel an insane abundance of love itself.”
The sunlight hits my skin—bliss.
I wake up rested—vitality.
I eat nourishing food—satisfaction.
I have shelter—comfort.
My baseline human needs are met.
But to reach the pinnacle, the essence of love?
“You can bypass worldly love—validation, wealth, attention—when you’re tapped into God.”
The Well: A Metaphor from Zambia
When I was in the Peace Corps in Zambia, I saw this every day.
Each morning, the villagers gathered at the well to draw water.
- Women with babies on their backs
- Buckets on their heads
- Boys building bricks
- Girls preparing food
- Fathers building homes
- Everyone sacrificing for the tribe
And at the center of it all?
The well.
But not just the physical one.
Also the church.
And at the center of the church?
The altar—a symbol of sacrifice.
A reminder of Jesus on the cross.
“The hierarchy is God, tribe, and land—not bureaucracy.”
These people didn’t need government.
They had spiritual nourishment.
They were overflowing with love—because they were tapped into the source.
What Is the Source?
“The source is God. The source is love. The source is the well that never runs dry.”
Every individual, when tapped into God, becomes a well.
And that well overflows into the family, into the community, into the world.
The Role of Sacrifice
Love isn’t just a feeling—it’s a sacrifice.
- It’s waking up early
- Doing hard things
- Following your conscience
- Choosing kindness when it’s easier not to
- Embodying peace when others are angry
“Spiritual nourishment makes physical sacrifice effortless.”
Don’t strive to be a martyr.
But follow the model:
- Socrates
- Jesus
- Muhammad
- Buddha
These are moral compasses, guiding us back to the source.
You Are the Ripple
If someone can’t find love—be love.
If someone can’t feel joy—embody joy.
“You become the ripple in the lake. That ripple becomes a wave.”
Through your small acts,
through your words,
through your sacrifices…
You change the world.
The Deep Well Within
“A well doesn’t just appear—it must be dug.”
And digging is hard.
Takes time.
Takes pain.
Takes persistence.
But once you tap into the underground stream, you never go dry.
And then others can come drink from you.
Because you’re overflowing.
Humans Are Trees
Like a tree:
- Roots planted deep in the earth (in hell, through suffering)
- Limbs reaching for the sun (toward heaven, through light)
“Be the well. Be the tree. Be the one who overflows with love.”
This is the pinnacle human experience.
The Kingdom Is Within
People always say the heart is the symbol of love.
But really?
“Love is a perspective. It’s how you see.”
It’s choosing:
- Courage over fear
- Love over hate
- Joy over sadness
And when you do that?
You find paradise.
You find heaven within.
“You don’t need a building. You don’t need a preacher. You are the temple.”
The truth is in the light.
And that light is within you.
Roses and Thorns 🌹
Check these out.
Roses.
They weren’t here Friday.
Now it’s Monday.
And they’ve bloomed.
Roses… with thorns.
Beautiful.
Just like love.
Thought of the day?
You are the well.
Tap into the source.
Overflow with love.
And give freely.
📖 Read more reflections here:
👉 https://dantesisofo.com
Divine Love Is the Source: Why You Don’t Need Validation from the World
Divine Love Is the Source: Why You Don’t Need Validation from the World
What’s poppin’ people?
It’s Dante — walking outside of City Hall here in the city of brotherly love, Philadelphia.
Today I’m thinking about something deeper than the bricks and fountains around me.
I’m thinking about divine love.
What Is Divine Love?
There’s this ancient idea called agape love — a kind of unconditional, divine love. I first came across it while reading Plato’s Symposium, but it didn’t really come alive for me until I experienced it myself.
Through living. Through witnessing.
The Village Well in Zambia
Let me take you back.
When I was a Peace Corps volunteer in Zambia, I saw something that changed me.
In the village, everyone had a role:
- Women carried firewood with babies on their backs
- Men built churches and homes
- Boys made bricks from sand and mud
- Girls swept floors and prepared food
Everyone was making a daily sacrifice.
And at the center of it all? A well.
Every morning, the whole community gathered at that well. It wasn’t just about water — it was life. It was unity. It was love in motion.
The Metaphor of the Well
Looking at the flowing fountain here in Philly, I remembered that well.
In order to construct a well, you must connect to the source.
You don’t just find water on the surface. You dig. Through dirt. Through pain. Through suffering. Through hell itself.
But once you hit the source, it flows endlessly.
And now — anyone can come to drink. The whole community thrives.
That’s divine love.
That’s what I believe we’re here to do.
City Hall, the Original Fountain
And I’m pretty sure — I gotta double-check this — but the original plan for City Hall included a fountain in the center, a place for people to come and drink.
The symbolic heart of the city.
Because a city, just like a village, needs a well —
A source where life begins.
A center of nourishment.
A place of gathering.
And for me, that center… is love.
Love From Above
If your love comes from above — from God, from the source — then you don’t need love from the world.
You’re not out here seeking validation.
You’re not begging for someone to love you.
You’re not striving for approval.
You shine in the light of Christ.
You love effortlessly.
You give endlessly.
You expect nothing in return.
Because you’re full.
Love That Nourishes the Tribe
Back in Zambia, every weekend — every day, really — people gathered at the church.
They went to learn about Christ.
To embody Christ.
To love their neighbor.
And when one person in a tribe walks that path — when they embody divine love — the entire tribe benefits.
Everyone is nourished.
And it’s not just about food or water.
The real nourishment is from the spirit.
You don’t thrive by consuming the world.
You thrive by embodying love.
Not Seeking — Just Being
That’s the key. You’re not out here chasing love.
You’re not trying to possess it through relationships, titles, or success.
You are love.
Because God is love, and you were made in His image.
That’s where the power lies.
Spirit Over Flesh
Your real strength isn’t in your biceps or your bone density.
It’s not in your grind or your bank account.
The real power is in the spirit.
And that’s what’s missing in modern society.
We’re addicted to pleasure, chasing wealth, faking love.
The antidote?
Be love.
Spread love.
Stop needing it from others.
The Armor of the Spirit
When you’re tapped into God, nothing can break you.
- Hate bounces off.
- Negativity can’t touch you.
- Suffering just polishes your soul.
You’re like a Spartan with Hoplite armor.
You’re like level 99 in Skyrim with Daedric armor and full defense stats.
Unstoppable.
Because you’re powered by something eternal.
The Well Never Runs Dry
And that’s divine love — the well that never runs dry.
When you connect to that source, you become the well.
Others can come to drink.
You nourish the world, not by taking, but by overflowing.
So tap in. Dig deep. Connect to the source.
That’s where life begins.
—Dante
Do not cast pearls before swine
The phrase is:
“Do not cast pearls before swine.”
It comes from Gospel of Matthew 7:6:
“Do not give dogs what is holy, and do not throw your pearls before swine, lest they trample them underfoot and turn to attack you.”
The imagery is straightforward:
- Pearls represent something precious—wisdom, truth, beauty, the Gospel, or anything of great value.
- Swine (pigs) represent those who are unwilling or unable to appreciate that value.
The teaching is not that some people are inherently worthless. Rather, it’s about discernment. Don’t keep offering your deepest truths, your best work, or sacred things to people who consistently mock, despise, or exploit them. Doing so not only wastes what is valuable but can provoke hostility.
In a broader sense, it can apply to:
- Not arguing endlessly with someone who has no interest in listening.
- Not seeking validation from people committed to misunderstanding you.
- Protecting your time, energy, and creative work until it’s shared with people who can genuinely receive it.
It’s a call to pair generosity with wisdom. Christians are commanded to love everyone, but they are not commanded to expose everything precious to those who will only ridicule or abuse it.
This 20-Year-Old Camcorder Feels More Like Memory Than Photography
Why I Switched to a 2006 Sony Handycam (The Ultimate Visual Diary)
What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante, currently filming along the Schuylkill River.
Check it out.
And yeah, today I’ve got the Vibram FiveFingers ELX shoes on. If you’re curious, this is the best shoe to walk in. Maybe this should be a commercial for Vibram.
It’s about grounding and transcending reality. It’s the intersection of the infinite unknown and the material plane.
Currently reporting live from this gigantic rock orbiting around a ball of fire floating out into the void of space.
It’s Dante Sisofo.
As above, so below.
The galaxy within the water, within the hidden creek, the Schuylkill River.
Check it out, guys.
The geese are in the water.
The geese are in the wudder.
When you’re in Philly, you gotta say wudder, okay?
The geese are in the wudder. They’re going to the Phillies game later. They’re gonna get a cheesesteak, drink some wudder, grab some wudder ice, stop at Wawa…
I’m gonna go to Wawa and get a slushie.
Do they sell Wawa slushies?
Yeah.
Filming with a 2006 Sony Handycam
I’m filming with the Sony DCR-SR40.
This little Handycam is pretty fun.
What happens when you put on NightShot?
Holy shit.
Maybe I shouldn’t do this. I think it’s too bright.
If I stabilize the camera by squeezing it, I can turn on the 800x digital zoom and film things. Maybe if I hold my breath.
You gotta be like a sniper.
The Aesthetics of Voyeurism
I’m interested in the aesthetics of voyeurism, or security surveillance camera technology.
Having the ability to zoom in 800 times is freaking insane.
It’s achieving that kind of goal for me as a street photographer.
I think the idea of voyeurism is interesting and maybe worth considering.
Maybe in this age of AI, security, and surveillance, as an artist who works in the streets, it’s interesting to play with this idea.
Whoa…
Look at how beautiful the light is.
Fuck your face. Check out the light.
Yo.
It’s trippy.
Being a voyeur is fun.
Why Video Feels Different
The power of video is that you’re not only recording a fraction of a second like a photograph.
You’re recording:
- the full gesture
- the full motion
- the full movement
- the full scene unfolding
You can move your body and interpret the scene differently.
You can see the way light casts across a face. You can see how reality changes as your perspective changes.
There’s something special about the emotional quality of video.
I’m starting to realize it feels more like a memory than a photograph.
It also feels more personal.
The Ultimate Visual Diary
As a photographer who’s always been interested in the idea of the visual diary, I’m beginning to feel that video is the ultimate expression of that goal.
Treating photography—and now videography—as a visual diary of my journey through time and space.
When you watch a scene unfold through moving images, it feels more factual.
Reality is presented more directly.
A photograph is naturally an abstraction.
I believe photography walks a fine line with surrealism because of its limitations and because reality is framed within four corners.
That creates ambiguity.
Mystery.
Video, on the other hand, feels grounded.
Why 480p Still Matters
I’m filming in color.
The colors aren’t perfect.
The sensor is old.
But somehow it feels more real.
The output is 480p in a 4:3 aspect ratio, displayed on a CRT television.
That immediately evokes the feeling of old home movies.
Watching family camcorder footage in the ’80s, ’90s, and early 2000s.
That’s exactly the feeling I’m cultivating.
A personal visual diary.
A memory.
That’s the vein of photography and videography that interests me.
Not trying to say anything profound.
Not forcing myself into a theme.
Just recording what I see.
Recording how I feel.
Follow Play, Avoid Work
Anything that feels like work…
Avoid it.
Anything that feels like play…
Pursue it.
Art should feel like play.
Experimentation.
Fun.
Joy.
This camera gives me that feeling.
Whenever you cultivate that feeling, it’s worth following because you never know what’s on the other side.
There might be a surprise.
And I seek surprises.
Photography Beyond Reality
When I shoot with my Ricoh GR, I’m shooting high-contrast monochrome JPEGs.
What interests me about photography is going beyond reality.
Surprising myself.
Black and white naturally abstracts life.
It’s often the imperfections that interest me.
It’s what I didn’t see with my naked eye that’s revealed through photography.
That’s what keeps me curious.
Why This Camera Inspires Me
Video is more grounded in reality.
But the imperfections that come from this 2006 Sony Handycam, the old CCD sensor, the 480p image…
Those limitations scratch the same itch.
I’m curious how this camera interprets reality.
Watching the water.
Watching light reflect across surfaces.
That’s one of the most beautiful things about photography.
Being curious about the outcome.
Playing.
Tinkering.
Trying new perspectives.
Enthusiasm
Ultimately, I don’t take anything I create seriously.
I’m just trying to have fun.
My ultimate aim is enthusiasm.
That childlike joy.
That wonder.
The word enthusiasm literally means to be possessed by God.
I want to be possessed by God.
I want to feel like a kid who’s excited to wake up and go outside and play.
I don’t want creativity to become this serious burden.
I’m literally just playing.
Saying Yes to Life
Existentially, we’re all grappling with mortality.
We’re all going to die.
Creating photographs and videos makes memories tangible.
It’s life-affirming.
That’s my entire philosophy.
Photography is life affirmation.
Me filming this tree…
Is me saying yes to life.
It’s me affirming that I was here.
That I saw this.
That I experienced this moment fully.
Photography gets me out of my mind and into my heart.
When the past and future disappear…
When you simply are…
That’s one of the peak human experiences.
Photography gives me that.
It allows me to live inside the eternal now.
To appreciate the ordinary.
To transform the mundane into art.
That’s All
Let’s go back to the water one last time.
Whoa…
Something just splashed.
Probably a fish.
Maybe a bird.
I’m probably stepping on goose shit.
There’s the city of Philadelphia.
The birthplace of America.
Me at the Schuylkill River.
This is me at the hidden creek.
Signing out.
YouTube.com/@streetphotography
Follow for more.
DanteSisofo.com
That’s:
D-A-N-T-E S-I-S-O-F-O.
Yeah.
That’s all.
My Complete Street Video Workflow (Sony Handycam + Raspberry Pi + Custom Software)
My Complete Street Video Workflow (Sony Handycam + Raspberry Pi + Custom Software)
What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante.
Today I want to share my complete workflow for video production on the streets here in Philadelphia.
I’ve been experimenting with what I’ll call video street photography. I don’t really know what to call it. I’m just filming life on the streets using this old-school Sony Handycam.
I’m using the Sony DCR-SR40. It has an 800x digital zoom, a Carl Zeiss lens, and records directly onto an internal hard disk drive.
The camera is incredibly simple. Everything is essentially automatic, and I shoot everything in the 4:3 aspect ratio.
When I’m on the streets, all I’m really doing is using the zoom rocker and filming.
I’m intentionally embracing the aesthetics of security cameras and surveillance technology. There’s something fascinating about becoming a voyeur with this old Handycam.
The CRT Television System
The more interesting part of this project isn’t just the camera.
It’s the entire system I’ve built around it.
I created a workflow for extracting footage from the camera and presenting the finished work on an old-school CRT television using a Raspberry Pi, my own software, and a programmable remote control.
This docking station is what I use whenever I import new footage.
The Mac Mini acts as the brain of the entire operation.
It SSHs directly into the Raspberry Pi, allowing me to control everything from the command line—or simply use Claude Code—to update software, publish work, and even develop new features for the CRT installation.
Building Flux TV
I built a portal that lets me control different television channels.
I can click Next and move between Channel 2…
Channel 3…
Channel 4…
Or I can use the physical remote and flip through them exactly like an actual television.
I even added a Sleep Mode, inspired by the old DVD bouncing logo screensaver.
It’s completely unnecessary.
Which is exactly why I love it.
I’m constantly thinking about new interactive features I can add to the installation.
If you press Channel Guide, an interface appears that lets you browse every film I’ve made.
You can navigate through the different movies…
Select one…
And immediately begin watching.
Everything is interactive.
I also built a station system, so theoretically multiple artists could each have their own television station inside the installation.
Everything is programmable.
If I press 2 on the remote…
It instantly jumps to Channel 2.
Importing Footage
Let me show you how the importing process works.
The Sony outputs footage as old-school .mpg files.
When I dock the camera…
I press HDD…
And my software, Flux Capture, automatically recognizes that the camera has been connected.
Immediately it scans the drive.
For example:
- 96 clips detected
- 43 already imported
- 53 new clips ready to import
I simply press Import.
Flux Capture extracts every original file from the camera.
First it preserves the untouched .mpg originals.
Then it automatically converts everything into renamed .mp4 files using my own Flux naming convention.
No manual conversion.
No dragging files around.
Everything is automated.
When I dock the camera…
It just works.
Flux Extract
Another application I’ve built is called Flux Extract.
The idea is simple:
Extract as much information as possible from every video file.
I can drag in any video and automatically generate:
- GIF timelines
- Screenshots every second
- Screenshots every half second
- Contact sheets
- Short clips
I simply hit Extract…
And the software generates everything automatically.
Right now I’m basically coming up with ideas…
Feeding them into Claude Code…
Then immediately using the software in my own workflow.
It’s become an incredibly fast way of building tools that actually solve my own creative problems.
Publishing Everything
I’ve also been redesigning my publishing workflow.
Originally I was releasing shorter episodes.
Now I’ve decided every episode should be roughly 30 minutes.
That creative limitation feels important.
Whenever I upload a finished video through my publishing portal…
Everything happens automatically.
The website:
- uploads the film
- extracts GIFs
- generates screenshots
- creates contact sheets
- builds downloadable archives
- publishes everything
Everything is open.
People can download the original MP4 files and explore every extracted asset.
Editing in Final Cut Pro
I’ve recently switched to Final Cut Pro.
The biggest reason is simple.
It lets me preserve the 4:3 aspect ratio, which is absolutely critical because the work is ultimately designed to be viewed on CRT televisions.
This little 8-inch CRT has become my development monitor.
One thing I love is that I can physically adjust the image.
I can change:
- saturation
- color
- contrast
Or even turn everything completely black and white using the knobs built into the television itself.
There’s something beautiful about working with physical controls again.
Automatic Ejection
Once Flux Capture finishes importing everything…
It automatically ejects the camera safely.
Then I simply format the camera.
And I’m ready to go shoot again.
No extra work.
The Mac Mini communicates directly with the Raspberry Pi…
The Raspberry Pi runs the television software…
The FLIRC device translates the remote control inputs…
Everything works together as one system.
Filming on the Street
I’ve been developing a very specific technique for shooting with this camera.
There’s no image stabilization.
At 800x digital zoom, every tiny movement becomes exaggerated.
So instead of holding the camera normally…
I lock it into my palm.
I press my thumb firmly against the side.
I create pressure from multiple directions so my hand almost becomes a homemade stabilization rig.
That allows me to film people from across the street while keeping the image surprisingly stable.
Why I’m Experimenting
I’m not looking for a particular theme.
I’m simply documenting everyday life.
Experimenting.
Trying things.
Sometimes I’m filming gestures.
Sometimes reflections.
Sometimes nature.
Sometimes faces.
I’m especially fascinated by the imperfections of the CCD sensor and the surreal way it renders light and reflections.
Creative Constraints
One thing I’ve learned over the years is that creative constraints create freedom.
Over the last seven years I built my color work while traveling the world.
Over the last four years I completely reinvented my black-and-white photography.
That process became so instinctive…
So effortless…
That I realized I needed to disrupt it.
I needed to throw a monkey wrench into the system.
Video has become that disruption.
And I think when I eventually return to still photography…
I’ll bring back an entirely new way of seeing.
Video vs Photography
Working with video has fundamentally changed the way I experience the world.
With photography…
I’m searching for a fraction of a second.
With video…
I’m watching a moment unfold over thirty seconds.
Sometimes several minutes.
Instead of freezing time…
I’m allowing time to breathe.
“Photography freezes reality. Video allows reality to unfold.”
There’s something deeply emotional about moving images.
The combination of movement…
Sound…
Memory…
Makes video feel incredibly grounded.
Photography, on the other hand, naturally becomes an abstraction.
By freezing time inside four corners, it leaves ambiguity.
Mystery.
Surrealism.
Video feels real.
Photography feels poetic.
I don’t think one is better than the other.
They’re simply different languages.
A Different Kind of Intimacy
With my Ricoh GR…
I’m usually extremely close to people.
Now…
I’m often across the street.
Watching.
Waiting.
Zooming.
Observing.
That distance creates a completely different kind of intimacy.
Watching a couple kiss from across the street through an 800x zoom lens produces a feeling that’s impossible to recreate with a wide-angle photograph taken from two feet away.
It’s a completely different emotional experience.
Flux Archive
The website is continuing to evolve.
Each film now includes:
- Full downloadable video
- GIF timeline
- Contact sheets
- Screenshots
- Downloadable archive
- Interactive playback
You can even click a GIF and jump directly to the exact moment in the full film where it was extracted.
I’m still actively developing everything.
In this video you’re literally watching me troubleshoot the website live while publishing new work.
Which honestly feels appropriate.
The project is still growing.
Thanks for watching.
If you’re interested in following this project, check out the Flux Archive using the links below.
See you soon.
Peace.
Start here if you’re serious about street photography:
👉 https://dantesisofo.com/register/living-with-the-ricoh-gr/
What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante.
This video is part of a larger system.
Living With the Ricoh GR is a frictionless daily photography system.
From shooting → to editing → to making your first book.
One camera.
One aesthetic.
One workflow.
One rhythm.
Proof of the system:
📕 Flux — The Photographic Diary Series
👉 https://dantesisofo.com/books/
⚡ Flux Archive (ongoing work)
👉 https://flux.dantesisofo.com
📘 Free learning:
👉 https://dantesisofo.com/learn/
🌍 Main site
👉 http://dantesisofo.com
streetphotography #ricohgr #videoart #sonyhandycam #crt #raspberrypi #finalcutpro #creativeworkflow #philadelphia #visualdiary
Why I’m Filming on a 480p Handycam in 2026
Why I’m Filming on a 480p Handycam in 2026
What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante.
I’m currently on the Schuylkill River Trail here in Philadelphia.
Check it out—a beautiful lamp. We’ve got water reflecting light.
Today I’ve just been taking delight in the notion of surrealism in photography, videography, and moving images.
Check out the Night Shot.
Whoa.
We’re in a movie now.
I’m filming with the Sony DCR-SR40, and I’ve been having a lot of fun exploring this strange, surreal way of seeing.
Beyond Reality
What is surrealism?
I guess it’s about going beyond reality. Going beyond the ordinary.
When I look at life, I’m thinking about what life could be, not necessarily what reality is.
Whether I’m making a photo or a video, I’m usually thinking about the surprise that can arise inside a frame.
To me, the beauty of photography lies in the imperfections.
It lives in the spontaneous nature of life, light, and the intersection between the world and the camera recording it.
This old CCD sensor creates artifacts that I find endlessly fascinating.
The lens, the sensor, the limitations—everything introduces little imperfections that alter reality in beautiful ways.
The beauty of photography lies in the imperfections.
Why Imperfection Matters More Than Ever
Today we have artificial intelligence.
We can generate almost perfectly flawless imagery.
I was just walking past a steakhouse using these hyper-artificial images for advertising, and it got me thinking.
Maybe the way forward for photographers isn’t perfection.
Maybe it’s the opposite.
Maybe we should embrace imperfection.
Embrace spontaneity.
Embrace the strange ways cameras interpret the world.
Even with these videos, I’m not trying to make the perfect vlog or build the perfect setup.
I’m just experimenting.
The sky gets so flat.
That dude is thirsty.
I’m using the 800x digital zoom right now. It’s around 8:30 PM, so there isn’t much available light.
I believe this camera records at 480p.
And honestly…
I love it.
Embrace Play
The idea of the day is simple:
Embrace play.
Not only in the way you photograph, but in the way you think about your work.
If your goal is always to grind harder…
To chase results…
Photography eventually becomes a burden.
But when you stay in a perpetual state of play—almost like being a big kid—you create room for breakthroughs.
You’ll enjoy the process more.
And ironically…
I think you’ll make stronger work.
Play leads to creative breakthroughs.
Looking for the Frame
Here’s a nice layered scene.
Foreground.
Background.
Let’s see if I can isolate this subject a little better.
Beautiful water in the distance.
It’s honestly surreal.
There’s something about the color rendition.
The repeating patterns.
Whoa…
I accidentally opened some menu.
LCD brightness.
No idea what I’m doing.
Night Shot is still hilarious.
It genuinely looks like a horror movie.
Extracting More Than Just Video
Something else I’ve been experimenting with is extracting as much information from my video files as possible.
I built software on my computer that lets me automatically create:
- Screenshots
- GIFs
- Still photographs
- Moving images
Every MP4 contains so much more than just a video.
That guitarist I filmed a moment ago…
It can remain a video.
Or it can become a GIF.
Or a still frame.
Or something entirely different.
Thinking about video this way feels really exciting.
The possibilities seem endless.
Returning to My Roots
I’ve been making photographs for over twelve years.
I was around sixteen when I first picked up a camera.
But before photography…
I made videos.
Back in Philadelphia, I lived in Andorra and wandered through Wissahickon filming nature with one of those little Flip cameras.
This Handycam reminds me of that era.
It feels familiar.
Like returning to where everything began.
Why Video Feels Different
Making compositions with video is fascinating.
I can physically move until a subject separates from the background.
I can zoom into tiny details.
I can stabilize the camera and slowly work into scenes.
These are things I can’t do with my still camera.
And I think this experiment is going to lead somewhere important.
I can feel it.
Ultimately, that’s what I seek.
Creative breakthroughs.
The only way I’ve ever found them is through experimentation.
Trying new techniques.
Trying things that might fail.
Creative Evolution
I remember being in Tokyo in November 2025.
I started experimenting with the crop mode on my Ricoh.
Making close-up slivers of faces.
Playing with slow shutter speeds.
Those experiments completely changed my work.
That’s the feeling I’m chasing again.
I never want to stay the same.
I want to remain inside that perpetual stream of becoming.
Of evolution.
Of change.
Of flux.
Maybe video is simply the next evolution of my photography.
Maybe it’s the thing that brings me the most joy.
Inspiration Isn’t Always Where You Expect
If you’re curious where this whole experiment comes from…
Look up “Me at the Zoo.”
It’s the very first YouTube video.
Made by Jawed, one of YouTube’s founders.
A tiny clip.
A Handycam.
Nothing fancy.
I think there’s something really beautiful about returning to the roots of internet video.
These days I’m not studying Magnum archives.
I’m not watching polished photography videos.
I’m watching Me at the Zoo.
I literally have it playing on a CRT television on loop.
That’s where I’m finding inspiration.
Sometimes moving forward means returning to the beginning.
Me at the Schuylkill River Trail
So this is my version.
This is me…
…at the Schuylkill River Trail.
I have to remember not to look at the flip-out screen.
I need to look at the lens.
Thanks for watching.
I’ll continue sharing these experiments as I keep exploring video, photography, and wherever this path leads.
See you on the other side.
The Joy of Video for Street Photographers
The Joy of Video for Street Photographers
What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante.
I’m currently walking down Market Street here in Philadelphia, filming with the Sony Handycam DCR-SR40.
This is my new vlogging camera.
Welcome to… 2006.
The cool thing about this camera is that it’s got an 800× digital zoom, and I can get really close to things. That’s opening up a completely new way of seeing the world, and today I wanted to share some thoughts on the joy of video—and why I think video is becoming such a fun medium for street photography.
Twelve Years of Street Photography
I’ve been shooting photographs on the streets for around 12 years, but I’ve never explored video as deeply as I’ve wanted to.
I’ve used a GoPro.
I’ve filmed clips on my iPhone.
But having a dedicated video camera like this Handycam feels like an entirely different experience.
I think the reason is simple.
As artists, we all seek that tactile feeling when making things.
That’s why people still shoot film.
Why people paint with brushes.
Why they draw with pencils.
Why sketchbooks still matter.
There’s something special about physically interacting with the tool you’re creating with.
Flipping out the LCD screen.
Zooming in.
Holding the camera.
Moving through space with it.
It’s a completely different feeling than holding up a phone.
Creating for a Physical Medium
This camera records in a 4:3 aspect ratio.
Recently I picked up an old CRT television, and I’ve been watching these videos back exactly as they were meant to be viewed.
That changed everything.
Instead of simply uploading videos to YouTube or my website, I’m starting to think about creating work for a specific physical medium.
The files are digital.
But the experience becomes physical again.
That idea really excites me.
Why Video Feels More Emotional Than Photography
Something I’ve noticed is that when I watch these clips back—even if it’s just a stranger walking down the street—it almost feels like a real memory.
Video feels incredibly emotional.
Photography is different.
A photograph isolates a slice of time inside four corners.
Because of that, there’s mystery.
Ambiguity.
The viewer fills in the gaps.
Video doesn’t really work like that.
Video feels closer to an answer.
Photography asks a question.
Video describes what actually happened.
The combination of movement and sound creates a completely different emotional experience.
When you hear the streets…
When you hear footsteps…
When you hear someone’s voice…
When you watch people moving…
You feel connected to the actual moment.
Maybe a photograph can suggest those emotions.
But video lets you experience them.
Photography is more abstract. Video feels more tangible.
Maybe it’s nostalgia.
Maybe it’s the old Handycam.
Maybe it’s the CCD sensor.
Whatever it is…
It feels real.
Learning a New Technique
I’m still figuring out how to hold this thing.
Right now I’m filming like a traditional vlog.
But I’ve found that if I hold it around waist level and stabilize it with my thumb, the footage becomes much smoother.
Even learning how to hold the camera is changing the way I shoot.
Building My Video Workflow
The videos coming out of this camera are tiny.
Around 480p.
Low resolution.
4:3 aspect ratio.
I actually downloaded Final Cut Pro because it lets me export native 4:3 videos without worrying about adding black bars.
But the interesting part isn’t editing.
It’s the workflow.
I built an entire software system for this camera.
When I dock the Handycam into its charging station, my own software—FluxCapture—automatically detects it.
It imports every video.
Converts the original .mpg files into MP4s.
Organizes them into numbered folders.
Renames everything automatically.
Then, when I finish editing a film and publish it to my archive, the software extracts additional material from every video.
It automatically generates:
- GIF files
- Screenshots
- Frame sequences
I’m trying to extract as much information as possible from every video I make.
The finished film isn’t the only output anymore.
The video becomes an archive of multiple visual artifacts.
I really like that way of working.
Seeing the World Differently
Something strange has happened.
After years of shooting the Ricoh GR in high-contrast black and white…
After years of making street photographs…
I stopped seeing the world in the same way.
The camera trained my eye.
It became instinct.
That’s the goal.
To stop thinking…
…and simply begin seeing.
Now I’m using this Handycam.
Suddenly…
I’m looking at everything differently.
The biggest technical change is obviously the 800× digital zoom.
I don’t have to stand close anymore.
I’m noticing architectural details.
Reflections.
Compression.
Small moments far away.
Even the low resolution feels beautiful.
The Carl Zeiss lens is surprisingly sharp.
And when you watch the footage back on an old CRT television…
It just looks incredible.
The Beauty of Imperfection
This camera uses an old CCD sensor.
The way it handles highlights…
The blooming…
The strange artifacts…
They’re aesthetically beautiful.
Those imperfections become part of the image.
There’s also a ridiculous night mode.
It almost feels like X-ray vision.
When you zoom into lights…
Reflections…
Water…
Everything becomes surreal.
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about abstraction.
Not through photography this time…
But through moving images.
The Joy of Starting Again
One thing I’ve realized is that once you achieve the artistic output you’ve been chasing for years, something interesting happens.
You become free.
You’re no longer trying to prove anything.
You’re free to experiment.
You’re free to play.
I think that’s where artists truly grow.
Not by endlessly refining the same thing…
But by destroying their old habits.
By becoming a beginner again.
By entering a new period of uncertainty.
To evolve, you have to destroy your old way of seeing.
Photography gave me that for many years.
Now video is doing it.
And honestly…
It feels amazing.
Returning to the Childlike State
People often think mastery is reaching a destination.
I don’t.
I think the highest form of mastery is returning to a childlike state.
Playing.
Exploring.
Being curious.
Experimenting without expectations.
That’s the final form.
Not perfection.
Play.
Right now I feel like I’m standing on a blank slate again.
And that’s exciting.
That’s the thought of the day.
Maybe I’ll make more videos like this with the Handycam.
Peace.
Have a nice day.
God bless you.
Enjoy.
How to cultivate an indestructible spirit
When work becomes play and your everyday mundane existence becomes extraordinary you reach the kingdom of heaven on earth and nothing can break your spirit or love for life.
No desire no need for vacation just a beautiful walled garden of the mind
So how do you achieve this indestructible spirit?
It’s definitely not easy considering the distractions that exist in our modern world. Step one is deleting Instagram, unsubscribing to all video streaming services and YouTube channels. Just stop consuming. Reclaim the empty mind then focus on cultivating the body. It’s only possible to have a strong spirit when you have a strong body. In order to have a strong body just go to bed by 9pm and spend most of your day in the sunlight. Honestly weightlifting is overrated- just go walking all day in a fasted state and eat meat at the end of the day. When you’re in public smile at the strangers and interact with the world more. Make something creative like photos or videos and when you remain consistent of being in a flow state of creation rather than consumption in combination with a strong body and empty mind you will start to cultivate your indestructible spirit