The word mythopoetic (or mythopoeic) comes from the combination of two Greek roots:
mythos (μῦθος) – meaning story, speech, narrative, or myth
poiein (ποιεῖν) – meaning to make, to create, or to bring into being
So, mythopoetic literally means:
Myth-making or story-creating.
Breakdown:
mytho- = myth, symbolic narrative
-poetic = from poiein, to create or compose
Modern Usage:
It refers to a creative or symbolic process of making myths—especially those that reveal inner truths, archetypes, or spiritual meanings. Think J.R.R. Tolkien, Carl Jung, or Robert Bly—they use mythopoesis to explore and shape identity, masculinity, spirituality, and collective unconscious through symbolic storytelling.
To be mythopoetic is to be a creator of meaning through myth.
μνήσις (mnēsis) – memory or remembrance, from μιμνήσκειν (mimnḗskein) – to remember
So etymologically, anamnesis means:
“a calling back to mind” or “recollection.”
Literal Translation:
Anamnesis = remembering again or bringing back to memory
In Context:
In Plato’s philosophy, anamnesis refers to the soul remembering eternal truths it knew before birth.
In Christian liturgy, particularly the Eucharist, anamnesis is the sacred remembrance of Christ’s passion, death, and resurrection—a living memory, not just mental recall.
Anamnesis is not just remembering the past—it’s a sacred return to truth.
Also just live in the city, but live like you’re Amish. Go to bed by 9PM, wake up at 4:30AM. Start your day with prayer and end your day with gratitude. Spend the entirety of your day outside walking and standing upright. Find a way under any means possible to not work in an office building. Eat grass fed beef and drink raw milk and chill
What’s poppin people? It’s Dante. Today we’re doing Street Photography Breakdown Part 14, where we look at five different photographs, breaking down the compositions and the behind-the-scenes of how these photos were made.
The Power of Intention in Photography
Before we dive in, I want to say this:
You can make any photograph you can dream of.
I truly believe that if you put your mind, body, and spirit out there on the front lines of life, you can come home with the photo that resonates with your vision. This happens through intention.
1. Bird in Mumbai 🐦
When I approached this scene at Bandra Fort during golden hour, I was intentional from the jump. I observed the fortress, the patterns of people walking, the windows, the doorways, the light—everything.
How I made the photo:
Walked around the fort multiple times
Found my choke point
Anchored the background first by placing the man in the window (frame within a frame)
Waited for the foreground to fill—three women with color, gesture, and light
Then waited for the bird to fly into the perfect position
Photography is about solving a visual puzzle.
And with patience, persistence, and presence—you will solve it.
2. Boy with Tire in Jericho 🛞
This was one of the earliest moments I used a window frame to structure a composition. I followed this kid playing with a tire, stumbled upon a construction site, and boom—found the frame.
What made it work:
The boy framed perfectly on the right
Another kid looking down on the left for balance and depth
A clean, ambiguous background—simple but effective
Simplicity creates timelessness.
3. Car Breakdown in Jericho 🚗
This is street photography in its rawest form. After praying at a mosque, some brothers invited me to their home. We had tea, they took me up a mountain—and the car broke down.
I stepped out and instantly responded to the scene.
How I layered it:
Foreground: the frame of the car, 1/3 of the composition
Middle ground: the men pointing toward the horizon
Background: mountains, clouds, sky—space
Street photography is about embracing the physical nature of life. Being on the front lines, engaging with humanity, and letting that engagement reflect in the photograph.
4. Shadow Play in Baltimore 🌇
Back in West Baltimore with my Ricoh GR II, I would often walk around just observing. On this day, I noticed light and shadow—my favorite visual tools.
A girl was enjoying water ice. Her brother stood beside her. A quiet, intimate moment.
What elevated the frame:
Shadow play
Beautiful green background
A quote on the shirt
Subtle gestures
It’s not just about documenting life—it’s about translating it into visual poetry.
5. Rainbow in Baltimore 🌈
This was no accident. I literally woke up that day thinking,
“Maybe today I can photograph a rainbow.”
It was raining. I grabbed my umbrella, walked the streets, and when the rain stopped—I found the perfect choke point.
What happened:
I manifested the photograph through intention
Framed the rainbow on the right
Found a man sipping coffee, looking at the rainbow—foreground interest
Background led back to the rainbow with lines, buildings, and classic Baltimore brownstones
Surprise element: a woman on the left looking back at you
This was not a lucky accident. This was a manifestation.
The Moral of the Story
You can photograph anything that you dream of.
If you go out there with intention and you’re patient, you will come home with the photograph that reflects your soul.
Go out there with a life-affirming mindset
Say “yes” to life with each shutter click
Let your curiosity and courage lead you
Each photo is a mirror of your spirit.
Resources
If you vibed with this breakdown, check out more on:
What’s poppin, people? It’s Dante. Getting my morning started here in the most historic park in America — Welcome to the Centennial Arboretum, where I just spent eight hours in paradise.
Immersed in Beauty
Oh man, I’m so excited for the day. It doesn’t even matter if the sun’s not out — just the fact that I’m immersing myself in a beautiful space, yeah… that’s enough to put a smile on my face.
And today I’m thinking about one thing: Serendipity. Letting go. Flowing with the moment. What that means in street photography… and why it matters.
The Myth of the Decisive Moment
When we’re out on the street, it’s easy to get caught in the mindset of looking for something — hunting for that “perfect” moment. You know, the decisive moment.
Shout out to Eli — You told me they even reference the decisive moment in Dexter while someone’s getting chopped up or something. 😂
But real talk…
The decisive moment is a myth.
I’m not saying every photo should be an accident — obviously, we still have to look around and be aware of what’s happening. But I think the real magic starts when we let go. When we detach from the outcome and open ourselves to the unknown.
Follow the Light
When I go out to shoot, the only rule I have is:
Follow the light.
That’s it. No plan. No map. No expectation.
If the sun is shining, I walk toward it. Even when it’s cloudy — I just move, follow my instincts, and let the surprises come naturally. Sometimes, that walk leads me to something I never could’ve planned for.
Get Out of Your Head
If you’re stuck in your head, thinking you need to find something specific, that’s where decision fatigue sets in.
That’s what causes you to get stuck. We don’t want to be stagnant.
We want to be moving. We want to be seeing. We want to be photographing.
Your Vision Is Your Vision
Look — even if two photographers walk side-by-side and shoot the same moment… the photos will be different.
Your eye is your eye. Your vibe is your vibe. There is no copying when you’re being real.
When you let go, you let yourself shine through. You’re not forcing a perfect composition — you’re responding to what feels right.
Photograph from the Gut
Not the rational mind… but the gut, the heart — that’s where the shutter comes from.
You don’t need a Fibonacci spiral or rule-of-thirds grid in your head. Things align when you’re aligned.
That’s the art of serendipity — Creating something meaningful without trying to control every detail.
The Legend of Serendip
Did you know the word serendipity comes from a story?
Apparently, there were three princes from Serendip — what’s now Sri Lanka — who kept making discoveries by accident on their journey.
One of them even discovered honey randomly, just by being out in the world.
You’ll find that sweetness, that honey, that nectar… when you let go.
Be Ready for the Moment
Serendipity isn’t just chance. It favors the prepared.
Have your camera on you.
Charge your batteries.
Be rested.
Be sharp.
Be present.
Because when that moment hits, you want to be ready.
That quick flick of the wrist. That click of the shutter. That snap of the body’s movement… That’s the magic.
Build the Foundation
If you feel like you’re not improving, if your photography feels stuck — the solution starts before you hit the street.
You need:
Clarity.
Energy.
Stillness.
Sharp instincts.
Fasting helps me. Being rested helps me. Getting out of the fog helps me.
That’s when your gut and your brain sync up — and you become this laser-focused, intuitive machine.
Be Empty. Just Respond.
We’re all in our head when we shoot. But the most interesting photography happens when your mind goes blank.
When you stop thinking and start being, that’s when serendipity delivers.
It’s not about going out and searching. It’s about accidentally finding.
Final Thought
Kind of like those three princes from the story of Serendip…
They weren’t looking for treasure. They were just living, wandering, moving.
And in that movement, they found gold.
Do the same. Let go. Walk. Observe. And photograph whatever the universe places in front of you.
It was used in classical Greek but became central in Christian texts, especially the New Testament, to describe God’s love for humanity and the ideal form of love believers should have for God and for one another.
It differs from éros (romantic or passionate love), philía (friendship or brotherly love), and storgē (familial love). Agápē is sacrificial, pure, and volitional—a choice more than a feeling.
Agápē is the love that:
gives without expecting in return
endures hardship for the good of the other
reflects divine benevolence
The concept of agápē became most influential through its use in Koine Greek—the language of the Septuagint and New Testament. Think:
In a world that is rapidly changing—with technological advancements, the advent of the digital compact camera, and contemplating the future of photography—I’ve been developing my own personal philosophy around why I photograph and how I photograph.
The purpose of this essay is to flush out some ideas candidly. Nothing is perfect. But I believe this is the ethos of my philosophy.
At the end of the day, our imperfection—and our impermanence—as flesh-bound human beings, who cut, who bleed, who are imperfect in our design and have a timeline, is ultimately what makes us so divine.
I find that recognizing change, flux, and the movement of each fleeting moment is what makes photography such a powerful medium. Because as I’m out in the open world, moving my body, photographing—the past and the future are not of my concern.
When I’m photographing, I exist outside the passage of time.
At the end of the day, we all eventually die. However, at least you can make a photograph.
My Critique of Perfectionism
I’ve spent about seven years traveling the world, working on my photography, and I can tell you that I’ve essentially during that time simply strove to be the best photographer I can possibly be.
I was seeking perfection.
I wanted to become the best there could possibly be. And so, with that in mind, I traveled to places all across the world, with my camera in hand, documenting life as it is. Seeking to achieve the most perfect photographs—combining the elements of a strong moment, an interesting subject, story, color, light, and composition. All synthesizing both the formal and emotional elements that make a compelling photograph.
I’d say I was a hunter for most of my journey. Always onto the next photograph. Always onto the next location. Always in search of that next best shot.
But eventually, the process became very repetitive—sterile, even. I found that the photographs I was making were no longer pleasing to my eyes or my soul.
By striving for perfection, I was limiting myself within the infinite possibilities of what photography can possibly be.
Now, by letting go of perfection, I’m no longer seeking to photograph what life is—but what life could be, through my own imperfect lens. By recognizing my imperfections, and the imperfect and impermanent nature of life, I’m able to be more forgiving with my photography—and play.
Photography as Play
I remember being a little kid, growing up with the forest in my backyard—exploring the unknown by myself, blazing trails, sharpening spears, attempting to hunt deer, building teepees and forts, building bridges with stones, climbing trees, swinging with vines—in the spirit of play.
I believe this is where we should be with our photography—voluntarily playing the game.
Photography shouldn’t be a chore, a burden, something you feel like you have to do. Photography should be effortless—like a child waking up in the morning, simply eager to catch the sunrise and to go to the playground another day.
And so, my philosophy around photography has everything to do with embracing this childlike spirit of play. What this means is: I put fun at the forefront of my practice.
I’m no longer on the hunt for my next best photo. I simply affirm: my next photo is my best photo.
This mindset makes me more forgiving, allows me to embrace imperfection more openly, and encourages me to play more—tinkering, experimenting, breaking things, and rebuilding again.
Think of a child building a castle with blocks—just to see how it looks when he knocks it over.
I think this is how we should approach our photography each day. Embracing the unknown—at first into the chaos with danger—but through curiosity, we find new discoveries.
The Philosophy of Flux
The philosophy of flux is very simple:
The photographer must first return to their inner child.
The way I do this is by shifting my mindset—by waking up each morning like it’s a miniature birth and treating each night like it’s a miniature death. This way, when I wake up in the morning, I’m simply eager to watch the sun peer above the horizon, eager to set my body in motion, without preconceived notions of what I will find.
I go out into the open world, curious about life and all of its complexities.
When I look at the trees and the way the leaves wiggle, and feel the oxygen go through my body and touch my lungs—giving me fresh air—I feel inspired again.
This is where I find my inspiration now: in nature.
If you look at the word inspiration, it means to breathe into—where God breathes the spirit into you.
And so, when you return to nature—to God’s most pure creations—you quite literally become inspired by allowing the fresh air to enter your lungs.
Why do I find my inspiration in nature? It’s simple: Nature is the most pure creation. The most pure form of art. A divine creation—where I find beauty and perfection in the imperfections. Watching the way the leaves and the colors of the trees and all the plants around me change throughout the seasons—grow, die, and bloom again.
Nature is always in flux. And we too, on the biological level, are always evolving and changing.
Photography Has Nothing to Do With Photography
One of the myths about photography is that the photographer is a magician that knows a bunch of tricks—how to make a composition and make a certain photograph.
But ultimately, photography has nothing to do with the medium itself.
Photography has everything to do with how you engage with humanity—out there, in the open world, on the front lines of life.
If you go out there like a child—eager, curious, full of zest and love for life—you will naturally approach strangers, ask questions, photograph moments, explore unknown places.
The photographer is responsible for engaging with the world through their curiosity and openness to new experiences.
Through this openness, there’s an endless possibility of photographs you can make. You can manifest any photograph you dream of—if you have the will, the courage, and the curiosity.
The intersection between courage and curiosity is where great photography is born.
Great photography isn’t born from understanding history, technique, or all the superfluous things most photographers believe.
The truth is: courage—and virtues like curiosity—are what I hone in on to improve my photography.
I Photograph My Soul
When you look at the word courage, from cor, meaning heart, I believe this is what is reflected in the photographs we make.
A photograph is a reflection of our courage—our heart.
Of course, sharp visual acuity helps. You can observe light, birds in flight, human behavior, gestures, timing. But this is the easy part.
Photographing from your gut, your heart, your soul—is something else entirely.
Going forward, I’m no longer caught up in my brain when I photograph. I tap into my second brain: my instinct, my intuition.
Let’s evoke our soul in the photographs we make. Let’s no longer photograph the external world—but turn inward.
I find that through turning inward—through my personal philosophy and perspective—I’m able to evoke a much more authentic image.
What is Soul?
Before we discuss how to photograph the soul, it’s important to understand what this means and why I’m thinking about it.
My idea about the soul is that it is ultimately a reflection of your physical body. This means: whatever you ingest through your eyes, your ears, your mouth—whatever you consume—determines the quality of your soul.
I don’t think the soul is some mystical thing. It’s quite literally your physical body.
Example:
Person A: Eats one box of Oreos a day, consumes Reddit, TikTok, and the news.
Person B: Doesn’t watch media, spends time in nature, creates art, and eats steak and eggs.
What will the quality of soul be for Person A?
Obviously—broken, unhealthy, anxious, maybe even depressed.
So the goal is for us to be vessels. To treat ourselves like we are a soul. To live as if there is not an afterlife—and even if there isn’t, to treat this life as paradise.
If you were in Paradise, how would you cultivate it in your everyday life?
It becomes obvious: physical health is the priority in order to have a healthy soul.
With a healthy body, we have a healthy mind.
With a healthy mind, we have a healthy soul.
And that soul is on display in the photographs we make.
We must cultivate vitality at the forefront of our practice. This means fasting, eating animal-based foods like meat, getting deep, restorative sleep—so we can wake up and walk endlessly.
I consider myself a vessel. I treat my body—and my photographs—like they don’t belong to me. With the assumption that we won’t live forever, let’s seek to allow our soul to live on through the photographs we make.
Become a Vessel for the Medium
Most photographers are seeking to have a signature voice, a style, so that someone might say:
“Wow, that must be a photograph by so-and-so.”
We do not seek this. That’s base-level. Boring at best.
The future photographer goes beyond style.
We become a vessel for the medium, seeking to photograph our souls.
To do this, the first step is: fasting.
We do not consume food when photographing. We don’t do it to be virtuous. We do it because it improves our brain-gut connection. It sharpens our instinct. Our inner curiosity guides us.
When your stomach is full, your instinct is dull.
When you’re digesting while making photos, you suffer decision fatigue. Your intuition becomes cloudy.
If our goal is to photograph the soul, we must photograph through the gut. So our gut must be empty.
We should become empty vessels.
And then, through this emptiness, we fill our cup with visual nourishment. As we walk, observe, and photograph life, the images we make become pure. Not influenced by substances. Not altered. Not compromised.
You know the types—those photographers out at night with a flash after hitting the bars. That’s not the way.
This approach isn’t for the weak. It’s for the strong.
Snapshot Your Way Through Life
Now that your vessel is empty and you’re tapped into your gut, your instinct, your intuition—the result of the composition will be a reflection of your pure and most authentic self.
The approach is simple: snapshot your way through life.
Live your everyday life—and bring your camera along for the ride. You’re not hunting. You’re not searching. You’re not trying to “get the shot.”
You simply move through the world at your own pace and rhythm, and let life flow toward you. As life flows, you recognize things—and you make a note by pressing the shutter.
You are no longer burdened by photography. Your camera fits in your front pocket. You photograph through your whole day in a flow state.
The Technical Process
The solution is streamlined and simple.
Camera: Ricoh GR digital.
File type: Small JPEG.
Style: High-contrast black and white, cranked to the max.
You don’t process. You don’t alter. Just shoot, import into your iPad Pro, and upload directly to your self-hosted website.
You publish your photos with the date and location, in chronological order, with no sequencing.
Everything stays in flux—a stream of consciousness.
One interesting thing I’ve realized:
What you see isn’t what you get. What you get is what you didn’t see.
With the high-contrast black-and-white screen, it’s like holding up an x-ray to the world—peeling beyond the veil.
The shadows are crushed. The light is exposed. You see deeper into reality.
Through this camera setup, the ordinary becomes extraordinary.
You uplift the mundane by observing light itself.
Light Is Our Subject
When we photograph this way, we return to the essence of the medium—light.
The world becomes our canvas. Light is our subject.
The way light shifts through the day, through the seasons, through weather and atmosphere—it gives us infinite novelty.
If we follow the light, we discover the infinite potential of photography.
The way light casts on surfaces, people, places, things—it will always be different.
You cannot make the same photograph twice.
Embrace Flux
Embracing flux means entering the stream of becoming.
Like water, ever-flowing—through a fountain, a stream, a waterfall—we are constantly undergoing change.
Through fasting, our body replenishes itself through autophagy.
Through weightlifting, we tear muscle fibers and allow them to grow.
Through photography, we capture our endless transformation.
There’s no endgame. No final destination.
We photograph for the love of the game.
What if you were never recognized for your work? Would you still photograph?
If the answer is yes, then you understand.
The Autotelic Approach
This approach is autotelic—done for its own sake.
We simply enjoy photographing. That’s it.
It brings us joy. It’s fun. We’re curious about the world, and we explore that curiosity through:
Walking
Traveling
Photographing
Each photograph is a question. Each shutter click chips away at life.
We don’t seek external validation. We ask: “What will reality manifest to be in a photograph today?”
We come home, review the photos, and we smile—because we discovered something new.
If no one ever saw your photos, would you still make them? If yes, then this process is for you.
There are resources there to dig into this philosophy and way of life.
After a decade of photography, I can finally say:
I’m having more fun, more joy, more meaning in my process than ever before.
I feel vital, curious, alive. That’s why I’m so eager to share this. Because if it empowers even one other person to try—then it’s worth it.
If you let go of outcomes—whether you make a book, a zine, a gallery show—and simply snapshot your way through life, your love for life will grow.
Photography becomes a form of life affirmation. Each shutter click is a yes to life.
The goal is to never miss another sunrise again. To wake up at dawn with childlike joy. To smile with exuberance for life itself.
Through the photographs we make, we reflect our soul—our joy, our love, our curiosity.
We’re no longer hunting for the next best photo. We know: our next photo is our best photo.
Why?
Because everything is in flux. Everything is changing. No two days and no two photographs will ever be the same.
We embrace infinite potential. We reject the base-level goals of trends and validation. We return to day one, forever an amateur—every day until the day we die.
We allow our love for life, our love for humanity, our courage and curiosity to guide us.
We are not attached to outcome. We don’t need praise. We don’t need to be understood.
We are here to evolve. To transform. To walk. To see. To photograph our way through the day— in the spirit of flux.
Before I ask a question about what something means, I always dig into the root of the word — thread its etymology.
Love comes from the ancient root leubh-, meaning “to care, desire, love.” It’s the same root behind believe — “to hold dear.”
So the word love is ancient — rooted in desire, care, and connection. Not just romantic or sexual, but spiritual, familial, and communal.
And so when we look at the ancient word, love itself — to desire, care, and connect — I think a bit more on a transcendental level, beyond this notion of physical desire.
The City of Brotherly Love
This morning, I’m walking along Logan Square. Beautiful fountain with sculptures and water that’s flowing throughout the summer. During the summer months, children play in the fountain — swimming, full of energy and vibrant love. When I see children playing, this to me feels like the purest and most authentic expression of love itself. Why?
When I see communities coming together — different families, children, and people gathered in a communal space, expressing the pure forms of joy through play — it evokes love at the deepest and most profound level to me as an observer of life. Philadelphia is known as the City of Brotherly Love.
Philadelphia comes from the Greek: philos — loving or dear adelphos — brother
Put together, Philadelphia literally means “brotherly love.” It was named by William Penn in 1682 as a reflection of his Quaker ideals — a place of religious tolerance, peace, and equality.
Treat Thy Neighbor Like Thyself
The ethos of Philadelphia is rooted in this philosophy of brotherly love and genuine care for your neighbor. The teachings of Jesus replace all laws of the Old Testament with one simple idea: Treat thy neighbor like thyself.
This one law rules over all laws and is very profound at a very simple level. If everybody is treating their neighbors with the utmost respect — like they would like to be treated — there really isn’t any need for any other rules or laws or regulations in society in general.
This becomes a very radical idea, almost rebellious in a way. It replaces the need for all the different systems in place that we have in modern life — laws, statutes, government, bureaucracy — with this very simple and foundational idea: that through love, everything else falls into place in harmony in society.
Communal Love
As a Peace Corps volunteer, I lived in a rural village in Zambia, Africa. What’s fascinating about these villages is that they are very self-contained and self-governed. There are no police officers, and there is no need for hierarchies. It is simple — there is God, tribe, and land.
In the center of the community, there is a well, where people go to draw nourishment for their physical bodies. Without this well, there is no community. The well is very difficult to construct. It requires proper placement, digging deep into the ground through physical effort — tapping into a source that provides an endless flow of water.
Once the well is connected to the source with abundance, the water is always flowing — providing the entire community with this vital substance that every human being needs to survive. Alongside the well is the church. In the center of the church is an altar where a sacrifice is made, reminding the people within the community of the sacrifice that Jesus made on the cross.
Every individual within the community has a role to play. Mothers are coming home in the mornings with babies on their back and firewood on their heads. The men are building churches and homes. The boys are building bricks with sand and mud. The girls are sweeping the floors and preparing food for the day.
Everybody in the community, in the tribe, in the family, is making an individual sacrifice for something greater than themselves. With the church and the well in the center of the community, not only do the individuals receive physical nourishment — there is also spiritual nourishment.
Through this spiritual nourishment, through tapping into the source — the top of the hierarchy that is responsible for a functioning society, God — each individual within the community embodies love.
God Is Love
“God is love.” — 1 John 4:8 “Whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him.” — 1 John 4:16
In the original Greek, the word used for “love” is agápē, which refers to the highest, selfless, unconditional love — distinct from eros (romantic love), philia (friendship), or storgē (familial love).
I recently read Plato‘s Symposium, and found it to be a very intriguing book on love, and found great wisdom through reading about Plato‘s Ladder of Love. Essentially, it’s a transcendental experience — from desire to spiritual enlightenment.
Being physically attracted to the beauty of a body is eros, desire — the base level of love itself. You then climb the ladder to recognize beauty has many forms, appreciating the universality of beauty. The next stage is recognizing the soul of an individual — finding beauty in their mind and their kindness.
Then there is the love of virtue, the love of knowledge, the truth, philosophy, and wisdom. And then finally, you find yourself loving the form of beauty itself.
physical beauty of one body
beauty of many bodies
beauty of the soul
beauty of virtues
beauty of knowledge and truth
love of the divine form of beauty itself
Personally, I found I’ve climbed this Ladder of Love. How? In solitude — and specifically, spending time in nature — I’ve become inspired. When you look at the word inspired, it means “to breathe into.” And by spending time under trees, in fresh air, among God‘s most divine and perfect creations, I quite literally have this fresh air being breathed into me — almost like the spirit of God has been breathed into my soul.
Despite not feeling love from the external world — in terms of somebody physically desiring me, or even sharing with me love and kindness and affection — I have this abundance of love within my soul. And the source has been connected. Through isolation and deep contemplation, and finding love for the sake of beauty itself — recognizing the patterns in nature and human behavior, and finding infinite wonder and curiosity in the mundane world around me — I have a deep sense of love and appreciation for all beautiful things.
The Fountain and the Well
And so, when you think of the well, and the construction of these fountains — like the one that I’m watching right now outside of Logan Square, roaring behind me as I write this essay — I remind myself how difficult it is to construct these structures. Like the well, to get to the source, we too must undergo this transformation — digging deeply, physically, mentally, and spiritually — to connect to the source of God.
This can look very different for others, but for me, it looks like fasting, contemplation, prayer, and even a transformative trip to Rome that completely revitalized my connection to my roots. I was born and raised Roman Catholic, and I have essentially, for the past three years, put Christ at the forefront of my life.
During my time in Rome, I spent time praying in the church every single day and reciting the prayer to Saint Michael the Archangel outside of the castle walls of the Vatican. I started to memorize this prayer very naturally, and simply with childlike curiosity. I never learned it when I was a little boy, so I simply wanted to.
I had no idea who Saint Michael the Archangel was, other than the fact that he was the leader of God’s army — and that sounded pretty cool — and I felt empowered with this sort of warrior spirit mentality.
I made a day trip to Paris for 48 hours. When I went to bed that night — in this little shoebox bunker hotel room I was sleeping in, after eating pounds of cheap meat I bought from the Asian market — I had a profound dream. A clouded dragon was chasing me, and then, as it became closer, transformed into a rainbow that emanated from the sky.
The next day, as I walked around Paris, I stumbled across a sculpture of Saint Michael the Archangel surrounded by two dragons. Revealed above the sculpture was a real rainbow. The synchronicity was divine — and honestly blew my mind.
This was the moment where everything changed for me, and I went from belief to knowing that God is real.
The Light of Christ Is Emanating Through My Eyes and Radiating From My Soul
The reason this happened is simple: I was just following my inner child. My inner conscience told me to quit my job — it was unfulfilling and dulling my spirit — and go to Rome. To go to the churches. To spend time connecting with my roots. To tap into the source.
And then, through tapping into the source and connecting with God — seeking the Kingdom first and foremost — everything just magically fell into place. But I don’t think it’s magic. It’s divine. It’s real. It’s pure love.
My childlike innocence and ignorance to this prayer to Saint Michael — and what he represents, even with the dragons and all this stuff from Revelation — wasn’t even on my mind or of concern. I was just trying to figure things out.
And very naturally, through being this big kid, stumbling through life and trying to transform, I’ve had a genuine divine revelation and spiritual enlightenment.
Pure Love Is Untethered
There’s something in the Bible that says: Seek the Kingdom of God first, and everything else will fall into place.
I can tell you with 100% certainty that this eternal wisdom is absolute truth.
Through embodying the way and life of Jesus — through his moral teachings, virtues, etc. — and connecting to the source, God, I have this intense and insatiable love for life that I’ve only found through Christ. It feels like my soul is on fire every morning when I wake up. And I seriously don’t know how to describe it otherwise.
The way that this feeling of love manifests in reality is that you start to look at everyone around you as a neighbor, a brother, with this deep sense of care and love — where you simply want to give and share love with others, without expecting anything in return.
And so now that I walk around with the light of Christ emanating through my eyes and radiating from my soul, I feel whole, complete, and have this abundance flowing through me — like I’m a fountain or a well that’s endlessly flowing, that just wants to share love with other people to drink from.
I’m untethered, unbothered, unattached to the outcome of whether or not somebody reciprocates this love — but simply embody it.
So now when I go through the streets of Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love, I simply treat my neighbors like myself. I smile, I wave, I spread joy and kindness. If there isn’t love in the room, I’ll bring it to the table. If there’s darkness, don’t worry — I’ll be the light.
This, to me, is what it means to embody the teachings of Christ. It’s to embody love itself.
What’s poppin’ people? It’s Dante. Today we’re going to be breaking down five of my photographs from across the world in Street Photography Breakdown Part 13 — looking at composition, intuition, and behind-the-scenes moments that made each photo possible.
1. Mother and Son at the Dog Park – Philadelphia
This photo was made at the Schuylkill River’s dog park — a beautiful place I usually walk during sunset just to catch some peace.
“I like going to places that bring me joy.”
I wasn’t expecting to make a photo that day. I was detached from the outcome. But when you simply go to places you love, you often get gifted with scenes like this one — tender, joyful, and real.
I went up on this boardwalk lookout and saw a mother and child hugging, so I framed them on the left side of the image. I leaned against the fence and used it to split the foreground from the background.
You’ve got:
The hug on the left
The dog and dog owner on the bottom right
A train in the background
People walking, city architecture, a garden…
“A tender moment amongst the chaos of urban life.”
It’s not about one isolated thing. It’s about synthesizing all the elements into a moment that reflects life as it is — scattered, beautiful, and full of movement.
2. Palestinian Smoker – Jericho
This one’s from the Wadi Qelt valley — possibly the biblical Valley of Eli, connecting Jerusalem to Jericho. I hiked there all day with friends and ended up in this scene.
“I too was there. Present. In the water. When I pressed the shutter.”
This isn’t just about physical proximity — it’s emotional closeness. I spent the whole day with this subject. When he turned and looked back, cigarette in hand, I was already there.
What makes this work:
Simplicity of the background (water, rock, bamboo)
Isolation of subjects using a high angle
Strong gesture and eye contact
Rule of thirds to divide the frame
“A timeless moment. A simple moment. That only came after spending time immersed in life.”
And that’s it. One photo. After five hours hiking. That’s how it goes sometimes.
3. Baltimore Youth – Baltimore
This one was taken outside a home in Baltimore. I explored the streets during my university days, and this scene just clicked — literally.
Foreground:
A boy on the left, looking at me
Two boys on the right, reacting
Background:
Wall, table, slanted pole, and strong color contrast between red wall and shadow
“If I’m photographing children, I’m going to drop to their angle — to elevate them in the frame.”
Low angle. Simplify the background. Wait for the moment.
That’s it.
4. Broad Street Bullies – Philadelphia, DNC 2016
Absolute chaos.
I was walking around photographing the 2016 Democratic National Convention. Protest energy in the air. Tension.
This dude on the left bumps into another guy carrying a watermelon. Watermelon drops. Guy falls. Chaos erupts.
“Let me be straight up… he spit on me.”
I didn’t even know why. I don’t think he saw me take the picture. The atmosphere was just that intense.
What made the shot:
Man on the ground, mid-gesture
Cigarette guy swoops into frame
Friend helping him up
Over 10+ gestures in the background
“Put order to chaos. That’s photography. That’s the street.”
Spontaneous tension. Split-second timing. Gut instinct. One photo that raises more questions than answers.
5. Playful Youth – Baltimore
This takes me back to where it all began — walking the streets of Baltimore at 18, Ricoh GR2 in hand. I stumbled across these kids playing outside.
Their mom tried to get them to come inside for a bath. They refused. They just kept playing.
She gave up. I asked if I could shoot some photos. She said yes.
“When you’re out there embracing the spirit of play — like a big kid with a camera — the world plays back.”
Key elements:
A boy sweeping in from the right, smiling
A girl upside down, hair outstretched
Boys drinking from cups, one on one foot, arm outstretched
My shadow and their shadows dancing in the scene
Blue sky, yellow lines, clean backdrop
I dropped low. I shot. I responded.
“Photography is visual — but it’s also physical. You need your gut. And your two feet.”
Final Thoughts
These moments? They’re not staged. They’re not forced. They’re gifts for those who show up — fully present, playful, and courageous.
“To go out there and put order to chaos — that’s our task. Not just as photographers, but as humans.”
Thanks for tuning into this breakdown. If you want more, check out:
What’s poppin people? It’s Dante. Welcome to the Centennial Arboretum, where I spend eight hours of my day in paradise.
Why Beauty Matters
Today I was thinking about beauty—what it means to maximize it, and how that connects to vitality.
“Maximizing vitality is an expression of your beauty.”
Think about it. If the body is a manifestation of God, then you are divine creation. You’re not random. You’re not small. You are the apex of creation—conscious, aware, expressive.
We can think
We can write
We can create
We can speak
We can express
Among all the animals, we’re the supreme ones. We have the capacity to shape the world.
The Artist’s Role
As an artist, I’m here to maximize beauty.
Not just in the way I look. But also in the way I see. The way I observe the world with my eyes.
I want:
To see beautiful things throughout the day
To feel the sunlight fueling my cells
To witness blooming flowers and wiggling leaves
To hear the birds and the sound of the wind
“Life is beautiful. But the modern world tries to flatten everything out.”
The Trend Toward the Ugly
Modern architecture is a symptom of a bigger issue: mediocrity.
Big gray buildings
Fluorescent lights
Boxed in
Spiritless
They’re not inspiring. They’re not beautiful.
Compare that to:
Fairmount Waterworks
Philadelphia Museum of Art
The old libraries
These places feed your soul. The modern office just boxes you in—physically, mentally, spiritually.
“Working in a box, boxing yourself in for the day… that’s a problem for the artist.”
Solution: Live & Work in Beauty
My answer? Work in the park.
Walk freely
Think deeply
Wonder physically
Surround yourself with beauty
Because beauty isn’t a luxury. It’s essential.
“To create, to read, to write, to surround myself in beauty—this is the priority.”
The Body Is a Temple 🏛️
The physical body = cathedral of God.
How to keep it beautiful:
Fast
Undergo autophagy
Sleep deeply
Walk upright
Lift heavy
Eat satiating, nourishing food (meat)
Avoid toxins—physical and mental
Because ugliness doesn’t start in the body. It starts in the mind.
“With a poisoned body comes a poisoned mind. With a poisoned mind comes a poisoned spirit.”
A poisoned spirit loses its love for life.
Strip It All Down
Let’s get minimal:
Shelter
Food
Clothing
Remove the noise:
Money chasing
Lust
Fake success
Material distractions
Then comes freedom. Then comes clarity.
Create Your Own Paradise
“Ignore modern success. Stop distracting yourself. Create your own paradise.”
Then you become:
Full of vitality
Mentally clear
Beautiful in body, thought, and spirit
Because through vitality, you awaken to beauty.
Beauty vs. Productivity
Modern design prioritizes productivity over beauty.
Glass boxes = cheap labor = efficiency And the people in them? Also seen as replaceable.
“That’s the scary part. We’re living in this life of mediocrity without even questioning why.”
These artificial spaces:
Drain your vitality
Flatten your spirit
Cage your imagination
I won’t participate in that system. I choose beauty. I choose vitality. I choose freedom.
Final Thought: You Are the Cathedral
“Your body is the ultimate cathedral. The ultimate manifestation of God.”
