The Discalced Carmelites are a Catholic religious order devoted to contemplative prayer, silence, and union with God.
The word “discalced” means “without shoes” (from Latin discalceatus). It refers to the reformers who returned to a simpler, more austere life—often wearing sandals or going barefoot as a sign of poverty and humility.
1. Origins
The Discalced Carmelites were founded in the 1500s by two Spanish mystics:
Teresa of Ávila
John of the Cross
They reformed the older Carmelite order because they believed it had become too comfortable and distracted.
Their aim was to return to:
Simplicity
Silence
Deep contemplative prayer
Interior union with God
Not activism, not preaching crowds—but inner transformation.
2. What They Believe
The spirituality of the Discalced Carmelites centers on:
Interior prayer Prayer as a quiet, wordless encounter with God in the depths of the soul.
Detachment Letting go of possessions, ego, and attachments that cloud perception.
Union with God The ultimate goal is mystical union—what Teresa called spiritual marriage.
The Dark Night John of the Cross taught that the soul often passes through a period of dryness or darkness before reaching deeper union.
3. How They Live
There are two main branches:
Friars (priests and brothers)
Nuns (cloistered contemplatives)
Their life typically includes:
Long periods of silence
Meditation and prayer
Simple manual work
Fasting and discipline
Living in small communities
It’s a life intentionally stripped down to the essentials.
4. Mount Carmel and the Name
The Carmelites trace their spiritual roots back to hermits living on Mount Carmel in the Holy Land in the 12th century.
Those hermits wanted to imitate:
The prophet Elijah
A life of solitude and prayer in the wilderness
So the Carmelite tradition has always had this desert, prophetic, inward character.
5. Why They Matter
The writings of Teresa of Ávila and John of the Cross are considered some of the greatest works of Christian mysticism ever written.
They speak about:
The soul as an inner castle
The purification of desire
Direct experience of God beyond concepts
In many ways, their language overlaps with:
Neoplatonism
Apophatic theology (like Pseudo-Dionysius)
Eastern contemplative traditions
It’s a tradition focused less on belief and more on experience.
A Reflection
Their whole path is about stripping life down until only the essential remains— silence, prayer, attention, and love of God.
Today I want to talk about snapshot street photography and how it’s completely transformed my practice.
For the past decade, I’ve been practicing street photography. But over the last three years, I’ve shifted into something much looser — photographing in a very open way using a compact digital camera, the Ricoh GR, and simply pointing and shooting without caring about the result.
I still understand what’s inside the four corners of the frame. I can see moments, compositions, potential photographs. But the difference with the snapshot is that I’m just living my everyday life and bringing the camera along for the ride — detached from whether I come home with a good or bad photo.
Letting Go of the Hunt
This approach emerged after years of going out into the world hunting for my next best photo. Traveling. Chasing locations. Trying to become the best photographer I could be.
And while striving for excellence is noble, I’ve realized something more important:
The meaning is in the process itself.
By immersing myself in photography every single day — no matter how mundane things might seem — and photographing wherever I am, I’ve found infinite creative potential.
I’ll give you an example. I went to the art museum with some friends and made a snapshot as one of them pointed toward Jesus on the cross. It was just a candid moment between me and one of my closest friends. Something I never would’ve photographed in the past, because I wasn’t “hunting” for a photograph.
Before, I was always looking. Always searching. Always trying.
Now, I’ve stopped trying. I’ve stopped hunting. And I’ve started becoming myself through the practice.
The Snapshot Isn’t “Less Than”
The snapshot isn’t something to look down on.
We often think: snapshot vs photograph amateur vs professional
But what’s liberating about the snapshot is that it’s democratic. It’s a way to cultivate curiosity in everyday life.
To me, the snapshot is the simplest and purest form of street photography. It doesn’t require technical mastery or formal education. I use a compact camera on automatic settings — usually program mode or aperture priority — and I adjust one thing:
Exposure compensation.
Everything else? Automatic. Focus is set. I press the button.
By removing the technical hurdles, I can fully embrace the present moment and start playing the game of street photography — noticing, responding, and photographing without friction.
Presence Over Perfection
The beauty of snapshot photography lies in the ability to notice.
Street photography, for me, is about:
Presence
Awareness
Being embodied in the world
Enjoying the sounds, the smells, the movement of the street — and responding instinctively.
Photography isn’t about composition, lighting, or timing. Those things emerge naturally through intuition. Photography is about engaging with life, with humanity, and cultivating enthusiasm for simply being alive.
Photography is just waking up and wandering with a camera.
To do that, you need curiosity. You need enthusiasm. You need vitality.
Flow Through Everyday Life
The snapshot allows me to enter flow consistently because it’s seamlessly integrated into my life.
The camera stays in my front right pocket. I go to work. I photograph on my lunch break. I hang with friends. I walk the streets.
There’s no separation between being a photographer and being a human.
Photography becomes a way to find meaning in the mundane.
Your goal as a photographer isn’t to find something interesting — it’s to make the mundane interesting.
Don’t wonder if something spectacular will appear in your frame. Look at what’s already there and play the game of finding beauty within it.
The Art of Surprise
When I’m photographing, I ask myself:
What will reality manifest as a photograph?
Photography always surprises me. What I get back isn’t what I saw — it’s often what I didn’t see. That’s what keeps me curious.
Photography becomes an abstraction of reality. It becomes an act of surprise.
That surprise fuels the loop: play → curiosity → surprise → more play
Embracing Mistakes
Practically, I shoot small JPEGs, high-contrast black-and-white, crushed shadows, highlight-weighted metering. Imperfect. Raw.
Sometimes I make mistakes.
But those mistakes are where the magic is.
Those loose snapshots — those imperfections — are what keep me coming back.
Becoming, Not Completing
A lot of photographers get caught up in:
Projects
Bodies of work
Books
Themes
My goal is different.
My goal is to stay in the stream of becoming.
Joy is found in change. Joy is found in evolution.
The moment you think something is finished, stagnation sets in. That’s burnout.
The snapshot liberates you from containment. It frees you from external validation. It allows you to photograph for yourself.
Final Thoughts
Street photography is presence. Street photography is awareness. Street photography is being here — now.
By carrying a compact camera every day and snapshotting whatever arises, no matter how mundane, I stay grounded in embodied reality. That’s where street photography is born.
This is my personal philosophy. I hope it encourages you to embrace play, stop taking photography so seriously, and just live your life.
Bring your camera for the ride. The moments will arise. You just have to notice.
Today I want to talk about why I practice street photography when nothing is happening.
I’m no longer on the hunt for something interesting to photograph. When I’m out on the streets, I embrace the mundane. I recognize that this is the name of the game. The goal as a photographer is simple: do you have the ability to articulate the mundane nature of life?
Embracing the Mundane
One of the ways I do this is through light.
The simplest gestures — faces moving in and out of light, shadow play, people walking through a space — can be elevated from something ordinary to something extraordinary in a photograph. I don’t limit myself to only photographing when something is happening.
When you walk around the city, most of life is people moving from point A to point B.
If you’re attached to the outcome of finding something interesting, you’ll eventually hit stagnation and burnout. My goal is to be in an endless state of motivation — an endless state of making new frames.
Returning to Day One
I do this by mentally returning to day one, every single day.
I go out with a blank slate. No preconceived notions. No checklist. No expectation of a book or a project. I’m simply responding to the mundane life in front of me through instinct.
The present moment is the ultimate gift in life.
That’s what fuels my creative ability. It’s cultivating curiosity. It’s waking up with enthusiasm. From that state of being, photography becomes effortless, and the mundane becomes interesting.
Feeling More Deeply
I believe that when nothing is happening, something is there — you’re just not feeling deeply.
So when I’m out there, I look at the birds in flight. I look at the way light casts upon the world. A simple gesture. Someone reading a book in the park. A detail. Someone smoking. Reflections. All of it can be elevated.
But it requires you to be hyper-aware and present at the moment you press the shutter.
What Getting Close Really Means
There’s this idea of getting close in street photography that goes beyond physical proximity.
I believe closeness is an emotional quality you have about life. From that state of being, curiosity and photography become effortless and inevitable.
So don’t limit yourself to hunting for interesting moments on the streets. Don’t look at life as if it owes you something. Use photography as a way to say thank you — as a way to appreciate life with gratitude.
From an abundant state, you enter the flow state.
Thriving in the Everyday
This is the goal for me — to be in a state of being where everything around you becomes infinitely fascinating, and the mundane nature of life doesn’t become a burden. It becomes a game.
I love walking the same mundane lane every day. The goal isn’t to find something new in the world, but to find something new to say.
Look at the light. Look at the gestures. Look at the way people move.
It’s not about sensational moments or compact compositions. It’s about you and your interpretation of the world around you.
When you’re emotionally attached to outcomes, burnout is inevitable. But when you’re detached and present, photographs become inevitable.
Stop Hunting. Start Being.
Empty your mind. Enjoy the day. Respond to your gut.
Stop thinking. Just shoot.
Treat photography as a way of being — a way of staying present, a way of saying yes to life.
When you do that, photography becomes effortless and inevitable. It doesn’t matter whether or not anything interesting is happening.
Life is mundane. But through photography, life can become a dream.
So go out there. Create your own world with a camera. Explore your subconscious. Return to day one. Photograph in the spirit of play.
Today I want to talk about the power of gesture in street photography, and how looking for gestures can elevate your photographs to a new level.
A lot of the time in street photography, you’re just seeing people walking from point A to point B. It can feel mundane. It can feel hard to find something interesting to photograph. One of the simplest ways to anchor yourself visually is to hone in on gesture.
Look for hands. Look for movement. Look for the way people interact in public spaces.
Finding Energy in the Mundane
What might seem mundane at the surface can be elevated through how you photograph it.
For example, I photographed a scene of Jewish men celebrating during Shabbat. On its own, it could’ve been just another moment on the street. But I noticed a puddle on the ground and chose to photograph the reflection. I waited for the gestures — the hands raised in the air — and connected that movement to a man leaping, his feet lifted into the top of the frame.
That relationship between gestures is what transformed the scene.
Gesture creates rhythm. Gesture creates energy.
Tuning Into the Rhythm of the Street
When you start watching hands and gestures, you become more in tune with the rhythm and beat of the street. You begin to notice patterns in human behavior.
You notice:
How feet move across space
How hands interact with objects
How bodies respond to one another
These patterns start to trigger you to make photographs instinctively.
Presence Is the Real Skill
Street photography demands presence.
Being present means being laser-focused on what’s unfolding in front of you, so you can analyze and respond intuitively — fast.
When I see a moment, I respond immediately. I don’t think. I shoot.
Over time, by training yourself to respond to gestures — someone bending down, a hand reaching out, a body shifting — it becomes second nature.
Gesture Beyond People
Gesture isn’t limited to people.
Even inanimate objects can carry gesture. I’ve photographed sculptures that come alive through gesture, framed against dramatic skies, elevated by my physical position in space.
Your physical relationship to the scene matters.
Physical Position Shapes the Photograph
Where you stand matters.
Looking up. Moving left. Moving right.
These shifts in physical position directly influence the photograph you make.
Recognize your body’s relationship to the subject. That awareness alone can elevate an image.
Close Isn’t Just Physical
Getting close can be powerful. A close photograph of hands can carry serious impact.
But closeness isn’t only about distance. It’s about emotional presence.
You don’t need to throw your camera into someone’s space. You need to be there when you press the shutter. Stay with the scene. Work it. Don’t leave until the scene leaves you.
Allow life to unfold naturally.
Gesture as a Visual Trigger
When you consistently watch for gestures, something shifts.
Your photos move from people simply walking around to images filled with energy — interaction, rhythm, emotion.
Street photography is a game of repetition and awareness.
Walking the Same Lane, Seeing Something New
Street photography lives in the mundane.
The real question is:
Can you walk the same lane every day and still find something new to say?
Some days feel repetitive. People just moving from work to home. But when you watch how they shuffle, how their hands move, how patterns repeat, you start to build a visual toolkit.
Gesture becomes the trigger that leads you into composition.
Final Thoughts
Gesture. Hands. Movement.
These are some of the simplest things to look for on the street, and some of the most powerful.
I hope this inspires you to head out, stay present, and start looking for gestures in your street photography.
Thank you for watching. I’ll see you in the next one.
Today I want to dispel the myth of luck in street photography and share why I believe the prepared photographer gets lucky.
Right from the start, it’s important to emphasize this: consistency, repetition, and discipline are what lead you to “luck” in photography. There are no shortcuts. No hacks. No way around it.
What You Control — And What You Don’t
In photography, there are things we control and things we don’t.
What we don’t control is simple:
We don’t control whether we come home with a good or bad photograph.
We don’t control whether we see anything interesting.
We don’t control what the world gives us.
What we do control as street photographers is how often we go out and walk.
The more you walk, the more you photograph. The more you photograph, the more you fall in love with life.
Photography has nothing to do with photography. It has everything to do with how you engage with humanity and how you feel about life.
When you cultivate curiosity, you begin photographing obsessively.
Daily Practice Creates “Luck”
I’ve been shooting for over a decade, and I haven’t missed a single day. I always have a camera with me. I photograph every day. And I believe that’s why I’ve experienced what people call “luck” in my work.
Consistency and repetition matter.
Photographing the Rainbow — Logan Square
First example: Logan Square, Philadelphia. First day of summer.
I arrived with intention. I knew that when the light was right, a rainbow would appear in the fountain. I circled that fountain for hours — engaging, observing, making frames.
When the light aligned, I recognized the moment. The patterns of the children. The movement. The rhythm.
I positioned my body and executed.
In the behind-the-scenes video, I literally said out loud:
“I’m going to photograph the rainbow. Somebody’s going to leap in front of it in a glorious position, and I’m going to photograph it.”
I spoke it into existence. I waited. I believed.
And it happened.
I got lucky — because I was prepared.
Where Luck Meets Preparation
Here’s another image from Baltimore. This was early in my journey, around 2016. I picked up my Ricoh GR II, put on a raincoat, grabbed an umbrella, and went out with the intention of photographing a rainbow.
When it appeared, I was astonished — but I was ready. I could position my body in relationship to the rainbow and the subjects.
That’s where luck meets preparation.
It’s the ability to synthesize what’s happening in the frame:
The formal elements
The light
The people
The intuition to press the shutter
And that only comes from being out there consistently.
Being Present When It Happens
I’ve photographed rainbows in Zambia, off the grid in a rural village.
In Jericho — the lowest elevated and oldest inhabited city in the world — I photographed a boy throwing a stone toward a dilapidated building with a rainbow behind him. It barely rains there. The rainbow lasted maybe 30 seconds.
But I was out there. On the front lines of life. Prepared.
Circling the Scene
In Bandra, Mumbai, I circled a scene for over an hour.
I observed:
Birds in flight
Light patterns
Human movement
People passing through the doorway
I watched how the scene behaved. Then I positioned myself and waited for the moment.
This isn’t luck. This is preparation — visual and physical.
The Game of Photography
The only thing you’re truly in control of is how often you show up.
And when you’re out there:
Can you position your body?
Can you understand foreground, middle ground, background?
Can you recognize visual hierarchy?
Can you respond intuitively?
When you raise the camera, the click should feel effortless.
The “lucky” moments come from being out there daily.
Why I Love Photography
I love photography because it has nothing to do with photography.
It has everything to do with:
Being in the world
Embodied reality
Daily practice
Alignment of mind and body
When you respond intuitively and quickly — and something magical happens — you know you were prepared.
Luck Is Earned
Street photography requires discipline. It requires obsession. It requires daily practice.
You’ll mostly fail. The moments are rare.
But when your mind, body, and camera are aligned — those moments shine.
That’s how you get lucky.
On a random weekday in Philadelphia, I found myself photographing a car fire. Nothing special caused it. It just happened.
But I was out there. Walking. Observant. Prepared.
That’s the secret.
Thanks for watching. I’ll see you in the next one.
My message of the day with photography is this: the more you take it seriously, the less enjoyable it becomes. But the more you let the chips fall as they may — embracing the spirit of play — the more the keepers will come.
When you’re out there trying, hunting, searching, forcing… nothing actually occurs.
But when you let go and detach, you enter that flow. That state of being where photography is effortless — and the flow state becomes inevitable.
Photography has nothing to do with photography. Photography has everything to do with how you engage with humanity.
Out here. In the open world. On the front lines of life.
Curiosity, Courage, and Enthusiasm
The goal of you as the photographer is to cultivate curiosity and courage. Your enthusiasm for life — that’s what’s on display.
It’s easy to synthesize content with form. It’s easy to make a composition that’s impactful in a frame.
What’s difficult is waking up eager for the day.
And I believe that enthusiastic state is what’s ultimately reflected in the things we make. The way you feel about life. The way you engage with the world — generally.
Stop trying and start being.
Just live your everyday life. Bring your camera along for the ride. And put four corners around what you find.
