March 14, 2025 – Philadelphia










Full Audio
PDF Transcript
PDF Slideshow
What’s poppin, people? It’s Dante. Today we’re going to be discussing how to get into the street photography flow state. Now, I believe the flow state—it’s what gives life meaning, purpose, and flavor.
“The more you think, the less you see. The less you think, the more you photograph.”


When I’m out there shooting, I enter this meditative state of simply observing patterns in nature and human behavior. Whether it’s the way light casts upon surfaces, giving form and shape to people, places, and things, or the way people move and gesture on the street—there’s something about flow that lets me press the shutter at the decisive moment. Photography requires you to be in tune with your intuition, in tune with the rhythm and beat of the street.
Achieving flow in street photography is critical. When you’re in flow, photography feels effortless. You’re not overthinking. There’s no hesitation. You’re just connected with the streets, moving like water—reacting and anticipating moments without fear.
“The slower you walk, the more details you will find, and the more photographs you will make.”
If you want to see more, slow down. As the bystander, the observer of life, the photographer—you enter the flow state by moving at a slower pace. When you slow your body down, you start noticing the mundane moments, the way light hits a wall, the gestures people make.

“The best photos come from being an active participant in the drama of the street.”
I don’t believe being in the flow state means being a stealthy fly on the wall all the time. Sometimes, the best images come from engagement. Whether it’s playing soccer with kids in Mumbai, having a quick chat with a stranger, or simply smiling—being present in the moment creates opportunities for richer photographs.
Flow is about letting go. No expectations, no over-analysis. Just shoot.


“If something intrigues you even 0.001%, just click the shutter.”
Shooting with the LCD makes composition more fluid. Less movement. Less hesitation. More spontaneous moments captured.
One of my favorite ways to enter flow is by simply following the light. In Mumbai, as golden hour hit, I positioned myself under a bridge where the light struck perfectly. Just as I was absorbing the scene, a car pulled up. Two kids in the backseat looked out at me, their faces lit by the golden glow. I responded instinctively, pressing the shutter at the perfect moment.

“The best photos simply come through entering the flow.”
I didn’t plan for that moment. I wasn’t searching for it. But by being in tune with my surroundings, I was ready when it happened.
Flow state is where all my best photos happen. It’s where I find joy—simply moving my body, walking for miles, absorbing the sights and sounds of the city.
So I encourage you:
If you found this post helpful, check out more on my website dantesisofo.com and my YouTube channel. See you in the next one. Peace.
The contrast between piety and impiety is a key philosophical and theological discussion, especially in the context of Plato’s Euthyphro and broader religious thought.
Plato explores this dilemma in the dialogue Euthyphro, where Socrates questions the nature of piety:
The piety vs. impiety debate ultimately forces us to ask: Is goodness inherent, or is it defined by external authority?

The Full Armor of God is a biblical metaphor found in Ephesians 6:10-18, where the Apostle Paul describes spiritual protection for believers in their struggles against evil. Each piece of armor represents a virtue or tool necessary for standing firm in faith.
“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm.”
Paul’s message is clear: spiritual warfare is real, and the only way to stand strong is by wearing the full armor of God.
Full Audio
PDF Transcript
PDF Slideshow
What’s poppin’ people? It’s Dante. Today, we’re going to be discussing fishing versus hunting in street photography. These are two fundamental techniques that we can use on the street.
I believe street photography isn’t binary. There aren’t just two ways to do things—it’s all about fluidity. Today, we’ll look at photos, behind-the-scenes videos, and even a contact sheet to break down how I integrate these techniques. Let’s get into it.
The fishing technique is about patience and observation. You set your stage and wait for the right elements to enter the frame.
For example, in Tel Aviv, I positioned myself at a choke point on the beach, where people and dogs were naturally moving in and out of the frame. I wasn’t chasing moments—I was waiting for them to come to me.

“The art of fishing is pre-composing a photograph, having a pre-understanding of what the photograph can manifest into, and positioning yourself in a way that relates different elements in your frame.”

I’ve used bus stops time and time again to practice fishing. They’re perfect because:

At this bus stop in Philly, I found beautiful light but no subjects. Instead of leaving, I waited, and eventually, everything aligned—the human element completed the scene.
The hunting technique is all about movement, instinct, and reacting in real-time.
Where fishing is patient and calculated, hunting is about staying light on your feet and ready to strike. It’s about walking the streets, scanning for opportunities, and reacting to the fleeting moments that appear and disappear in an instant.

“The hunting technique is all about staying light on your feet and ready to strike. By walking the streets and reacting in real-time to the moments that are fleeting, you want to move quickly, scanning for opportunities.”

In Philadelphia, a man swooped by doing a wheelie. I had to drop low and react instantly to frame the shot. This was pure hunting—no time for planning, just instinct.
Another time in Mexico City, it started raining. I ran for cover and spontaneously captured a kiss in the moment. These are the shots you can’t predict—you just have to be ready.

In Zambia, I found myself in a bustling market, surrounded by energy, movement, and fleeting gestures. This was the perfect environment to apply the hunting technique—staying light on my feet, scanning for moments, and reacting instinctively.

As I moved through the market, a man turned his head and locked eyes with me. The light hit just right, creating a striking contrast that immediately caught my attention. Without hesitation, I raised my camera and fired off a single frame.

“I made this photograph in a split second—no time to think, just pure instinct. The moment happened, and I was ready.”
Looking back at the contact sheet, the story of the image unfolds:

✅ Trust your intuition – The best moments happen fast. Be prepared.
✅ Move with awareness – Observe your surroundings and anticipate gestures.
✅ Be ready to strike – Keep your settings dialed in, so you don’t miss the shot.
This moment in Zambia reinforced why the hunting technique is so essential in street photography. Some moments don’t wait—they demand action. When the opportunity presents itself, be ready to press the shutter.
So, which is better—fishing or hunting?
The answer: Neither. It’s about knowing when to switch between them.

“The best street photographers undulate between the two—not only responding quickly with intuition using the hunting technique but also knowing when to be still, patient, and fish for a scene.”
At Logan Square, I spent 2-3 hours photographing the fountain. I observed the way light reflected and how kids played.
This hybrid approach allowed me to capture a perfectly timed moment.

If you want to improve, I recommend dedicating entire sessions to each technique:
By mastering both techniques, you’ll become a more dynamic street photographer.
Street photography isn’t just about seeing—it’s about feeling the moment, moving your body, and being in tune with the energy of the streets. Whether you’re fishing, hunting, or blending both techniques, it’s all about adapting to the flow of the city.
🔥 Want more? Check out my resources:
See you in the next one. Peace. ✌️
What’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante. Today, we’re going to be discussing how to fill the frame in street photography. Over my decade-long journey of traveling, photographing, and mastering street photography, I want to give you some insight on how to create visually impactful images.
A strong composition grabs attention and keeps the viewer engaged. A weak composition? It falls flat. I aim to create a visual feast, guiding the viewer’s eye throughout the different elements that make up the frame.

In this image from Baltimore, you can see how the eye travels throughout the frame, guided by the gestures of the boys playing and the way light gives shape and form to the decisive moment.
To create impact, consider the following:
Every inch of the frame should serve a purpose—not just cramming things in, but making a visually pleasant experience for the viewer.
“What you exclude from the frame is just as important as what you include.”
A frame that feels full doesn’t mean cluttered. Filling the frame is about simplification.

In this photograph, Palestinian youth are playing on cinder blocks. I used:
By being present and in the right position, I could naturally let the scene unfold and capture it effectively.

When reviewing my contact sheets, I see how I refine my composition through movement.


“Composition derives from your legs—move your body, not just your camera.”

Placing a subject in the foreground draws the viewer into the frame.
Example: In Mumbai, I positioned a boy’s gesture in the foreground to lead the viewer’s eye into the scene.



Layering elements from foreground to background creates a visually rich frame.
Example: In Zambia, I positioned a boy washing in the foreground while including subjects in the middle ground to add layers of interest.

Spending time at a location allows you to observe patterns and anticipate moments.
Example: In Napoli, I stayed at a scene for two hours, watching how moments unfolded naturally.

One of the most important techniques: physically move closer to your subject.
“The closer you get, the easier it is to fill the frame.”

Filling the frame is about making every inch count. By moving closer, using foreground elements, and simplifying your compositions, you can create strong, visually compelling street photographs.

“In street photography, the more you walk, the more you see. The more you see, the more you photograph. The more you photograph, the more you learn.”
So go out there, shoot more, observe more, and apply these techniques. If you’re looking to improve your street photography, check out dantesisofo.com or my YouTube channel for more insights.
See you in the next one. Peace.
Full Audio
PDF Transcript
PDF Slideshow
What’s poppin, people? It’s Dante. Today, we’re going to be discussing how to work the scene in street photography. And honestly, just being straight up with you, this is probably the most important post I’m making to date on street photography.
I believe there are misconceptions about street photography and the decisive moment. People think a photographer just clicks once and moves on. Well, I’m here to dispel that myth.
A lot of the photographs I’ve made came with lots of clicks, lots of shutter presses, and a lot of time spent. I don’t leave the scene until the scene leaves me.
“Don’t just take one shot and move on—work the scene and find the best way to make a composition.“
I want to share how I worked a scene on top of the wall that separates Israel and Palestine.


How did I make this photograph of a boy throwing a baby stroller against the wall? Courage. Repetition. Persistence.
I went back time and time again, week after week, and most of the time, nothing happened. The scene was empty, desolate. But eventually, through working the scene over time, I was able to make the photograph.

In my contact sheet, you can see:
“By repositioning my body and adjusting the composition, I was able to make a photograph with more impact.“
Courage comes from the Latin word cor, meaning heart. Photography is a reflection of your heart.
I was in Jericho at a checkpoint, photographing clashes. There were shots going off. I had to move in and out quickly, waiting for the perfect moment to get the shot.
I followed my tactic:

The result? A tattered, masked man standing amid the smoke. The key to this photograph was:
“Photography has nothing to do with photography. It has everything to do with how you engage with humanity.“
Even in serious situations, I embrace play. Photography isn’t just about documenting life—it’s about engaging with it.


I saw a boy playing with his donkey in a smoky landscape. Instead of just snapping a quick shot, I:
By playing with the scene, I captured the boy revealing himself behind the donkey, adding mystery and intrigue.
I entered Shuafat refugee camp in East Jerusalem. Going through the checkpoint, I felt the weight of the wall, the soldiers watching me.
Instead of being fearful, I embraced the spirit of play:

I noticed the beautiful pop of green from the watermelons. The light was striking. I sensed a potential photograph.
“Photography is a visual puzzle. Your job is to find the pieces and put them together.“
A strong foundation for composition comes from understanding light, human movement, and patterns.
I spent a year in Zambia as a Peace Corps volunteer. At a funeral scene, I watched as mourners gathered.

The final photograph was filled with emotion, depth, and storytelling.
You have to move your body. Drop low, step back, change angles. Every small movement changes the composition drastically.

Sometimes, the energy of a scene dies down. The light shifts. The moment passes.

If there’s one thing I want you to take away, it’s this:
“Don’t leave the scene until the scene leaves you.“
Go out there, experiment, fail, try again, and work the scene until you create something truly powerful.
Want to dive deeper into street photography?
Let’s learn and grow together. Thanks for reading, and remember:
Don’t take yourself too seriously—embrace the spirit of play.
Peace.


It’s now spring, the sun is up, and we have longer days. I think what’s been preventing me from writing for the past couple of months during the winter is the simple fact that it’s really difficult to hold my phone out without my hand freezing up while walking outside—ha ha. Now, maybe I should get back to it.

Thank you for this day. Thank you for the air in my lungs. Thank you for the water in my cup. Thank you for these birds that sing. And thank you for the opportunity to simply catch another sunrise.
Honestly, when I open my eyes, I’m just so eager to go out and play—like a big kid, exploring endlessly. I find that when I wake up in the morning, there are infinite possibilities for the day to begin. Life is a video game, and you can choose your own adventure. Stop letting other people, societal pressures, decide how you should live, what you should do, etc.
This is the day, this is the day, that the Lord has made, that the Lord has made, let us rejoice, let us rejoice, and be glad in him, and be glad in him.
I remember singing this song when I was in Catholic school as a young boy. Honestly, singing just brings so much joy. I think when I start my days now, starting by singing is actually so uplifting. I think it’s similar to laughter—laughter is one of the peak experiences you can have in life. The feeling of bliss, joy, and happiness that emits through laughter is unlike anything else. However, I find the same feeling, the sensation of bliss, through singing.
I miss when I was a little boy, and we would start each day by praying with the Lord’s Prayer. Nowadays, I actually walk on a nature path and start my day by singing this prayer out loud. I then reflect on what I’m most grateful for, catch the sunrise, and then start the day.
Right now, I’m just walking around a beautiful park, listening to the beautiful songs from the birds above, watching the squirrels climb the trees, and feeling the crisp, cool breeze on my skin as I watch the sun peer above the horizon, with a view of the Philadelphia skyline.
On the outskirts of the city, I thrive. I love being out here—this big, open park, the endless expanse of the woodlands. Every day, I like to catch the sunset along the river trail, the trail that extends all the way to the forest.
When I was a little boy, I would explore the forest, building teepees with sticks, building bridges with stones, exploring the unknown. Nowadays, I’m here once again. I have returned, a child again, born again.
I recently met a young Amish man on the river trail with his friend. His friend prompted me with a question:
Have you ever had to tell somebody the truth, but you knew that it would hurt their feelings?
I sat there for a moment, stumped. But upon conversation, we got into a very in-depth discussion—something I very rarely have. They then told me that they were going to the train station to sing songs, so I tagged along.
On the way to the train station, they stopped to chat with a man who seemed very ill, hunched over on a bench, with poor clothing, clearly homeless. They bent down on their knees, put their hands on the man’s back, and said a prayer for him. They got him up, brought him inside, and let him use their phone to make a call to a friend for help.
We then went to the open area of the train station, with its tall ceilings, and began to sing. It was honestly the most random and beautiful thing that I’ve ever experienced in my hometown of Philadelphia.
Just this past weekend, I was invited to a Bible study in Lancaster and spent the afternoon in the basement of an Amish home, singing among a group of Amish youth.
When I tell you, I’ve traveled all over the world and experienced so many different cultures—when you visit Lancaster, it’s like you’re in another world. The people are so pure of heart, so kind. Everybody waves at you and says hello.
When I was in the basement singing with this group of Amish youth for about an hour, I could feel the frequency of the room vibrating. It was so beautiful, and the harmony was so high. I felt like I could touch the sky.
While singing in a group, I felt pure bliss. I feel like this is just something that’s generally missing in modern life in the city—a true sense of community, camaraderie, where you share the same frequency of pure love and joy.
But I can tell you that I found it—on this random Sunday, in an Amish Bible study.
We read a passage from the Bible about Nicodemus, when he encountered Jesus, asking what it means to be born again, as you cannot be born from the womb and crawl back out again.
But one must be born of the Spirit and of the water, Jesus said.
What I’ve thought about is that perhaps to be born of the Spirit is to simply recognize your inner divine qualities, the light that is within. But it’s only through accepting Him that you truly become animated through the Spirit.
For instance, when I was in Catholic school as a young boy, I was baptized as an infant and even received the holy sacrament of confirmation, where you’re supposedly supposed to receive the Holy Spirit.
While I understand the tradition and the religion, I believe that when you’re a child, you truly cannot grasp these concepts, and maybe that isn’t the authentic way to be born again.
Nowadays, I treat each night like a miniature death, and each morning I’m simply born again.
I’m a child each day, and I’ve been blessed with a creative spirit that carries me out there to photograph every single day, in the spirit of play. I think we shouldn’t take life so seriously and recognize that this world, and everything around us, is kind of a mystery.
When I pray in the morning, I like to remind myself that I’m mortal—that I’m built of flesh, that I cut, bleed, feel lust, sorrow, and grief.
Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.
One of the final lines in the Lord’s Prayer reminds us of the power of forgiveness. We have a past, we have a future, but these things are not my concern. When you forgive, forget, and accept the present moment with gratitude, everything is in abundance.
At the end of the day, we are all imperfect. But to hold onto that shame, that fear, and that guilt of our imperfect nature will inevitably make you weak, crush your spirit, and put you in the darkness.
And so I decide to sing—to raise my spirit as high as I possibly can through the act of living for the present moment, making photos, walking, and remaining infinitely curious each day.
Full Audio
PDF Transcript
PDF Slideshow
What’s poppin, people? It’s Dante. Today, we’re going to be discussing developing a personal style through light. Over the past decade, I’ve been traveling the world, working on my photography, and I’ve mastered the use of light.
I’ve understood that my personal approach to photography requires light. It requires this scorching sun to give shape and form to the people that I photograph on the streets. And so, most of my great photographs have something more than just an interesting moment—there’s something about the light that elevates the photograph to a new height.

By understanding your personal taste in what makes a good photograph and what kind of light you prefer, you can refine your own style. Maybe you’re a night owl, shooting at nightclubs or in the evening. Or maybe you’re like me—never out at night, never using flash, preferring the scorching sun, long looming shadows of golden hour, or the harsh light of midday.
The only way to develop your own style through light is by going out there and experimenting with different types of light, by photographing with consistency.
Certain photographers have mastered light in their own unique way. Studying their work can influence your ability to use light as a tool:



Light is essential in setting the mood and creating an emotional response from the viewer. A well-lit scene can invoke joy, mystery, horror, or melancholy just by the way light interacts with the subject.

When I was in Mumbai, India, I positioned myself by the sea, knowing the golden hour glow would create something special. This kind of awareness—understanding how light interacts at a certain time of day in a specific location—helped me refine my vision.
Early on, experiment with different lighting conditions:
I quickly learned that I don’t like using flash. It feels aggressive and unnatural to me. Instead, I love high contrast light, golden hour warmth, and deep, dark shadows.
There is no right or wrong with this. Follow your curiosity, experiment, and find what resonates with you.
One of my earliest realizations came while photographing in Baltimore—I was drawn to the way shadows played in the background, slicing across the faces of my subjects. This interplay of light and shadow has continued to intrigue me and influence my work.

By following the light, positioning yourself in certain places at certain times, and shooting in specific lighting conditions, you can develop a signature look.
Editing choices also define your style:
For example, when I shot in color, my edits were minimal:
Now, with my Ricoh GR III and GR IIIx, I use in-camera JPEG settings with my contrast, shadows, and highlights baked in—so I don’t need to do much post-processing.

Light consistency can define a cohesive body of work.
In Zambia, Africa, I noticed how the harsh midday light and golden hour glow shaped my photographs. By consistently using similar lighting, I created a series that felt unified and deeply personal.
Light is not just a technical factor; it’s an artistic choice that gives your work a voice.








I gravitate towards high contrast, golden light, and deep shadows. By repeatedly shooting at the same times of day and in similar conditions, I’ve developed a personal signature.
Light is the essence of photography. We wield light as our medium, so mastering it is key.

To develop your own voice, try this:
Over time, you’ll naturally find your preference and develop your style.
Mastering light is the key to refining your personal photographic vision. Experiment, study the greats, and be consistent.
For more on developing your style in street photography, check out:
📌 Dantesisofo.com – My resource on finding your style in street photography.
📌 YouTube.com/streetphotography – More videos breaking down the use of light.
I hope something in this post resonates with you. Now, go out there and find your light.
Peace ✌️

Beauty, love, and anagoge are deeply interconnected in the ascent of the soul toward higher understanding.
Beauty, in its purest form, is not merely an aesthetic experience but a revelation of order, harmony, and truth. It draws us beyond the mundane, awakening a longing for something greater. Plato saw beauty as a ladder, where one ascends from the love of physical beauty to the love of divine beauty—the ultimate reality.
Love, especially in the Platonic and mystical sense, is the force that propels this ascent. It is not just desire but a movement of the soul toward unity, wholeness, and the divine. Love is the fire that ignites the journey of anagoge.
Anagoge, meaning “ascent” or “leading upward,” is the process of spiritual elevation—seeing beyond the material to grasp the eternal. It is the mystical reading of reality, where the visible world becomes a signpost to the invisible. Through anagogical vision, beauty is no longer just an object to behold, but a doorway, and love becomes the means by which the soul moves through that doorway.
Together, beauty, love, and anagoge form a triad that leads one toward higher wisdom, transforming perception itself.
What once appeared as mere form becomes infused with meaning, and what once seemed separate reveals itself as part of a greater whole.
Through this lens, the world is no longer just seen but understood—not just experienced but transcended.

Anagoge (from the Greek anagōgē, meaning “ascent” or “leading upward”) refers to a mystical or spiritual interpretation of a text, particularly religious scriptures, that goes beyond the literal, allegorical, and moral meanings to a higher, transcendent understanding. It is often used in theology and philosophy to describe the elevation of the soul toward divine truths.
In medieval exegesis, anagogical interpretation was one of the four levels of scriptural meaning, signifying how a passage points to ultimate spiritual realities, such as heaven or union with God.

The word vision comes from the Latin visio, meaning “sight, seeing, thing seen.” This, in turn, derives from videre, meaning “to see.” The root weid- in Proto-Indo-European (PIE) also meant “to see,” and it gave rise to various words related to sight and perception, including video, visible, and even wit (as in quick-witted, originally meaning “quick to perceive”).
Wisdom comes from Old English wīsdom, a compound of wīs (“wise, knowing, learned”) and -dom (“state, condition”). The root wīs traces back to the Proto-Germanic wissaz, which is related to the PIE root weid-—the same root that gave us vision. This is because, in ancient language, knowledge and seeing were closely linked. To “see” was often metaphorical, referring to understanding.
Both vision and wisdom share the same deep linguistic root in weid-, meaning “to see.” This suggests that, at their core, seeing and knowing were once understood as deeply connected.
Ancient cultures often linked wisdom with sight. The blind prophet Tiresias in Greek mythology, Odin sacrificing an eye for wisdom in Norse myth, and the metaphor of enlightenment (light = knowledge) all reflect this ancient association.
Vision allows one to perceive, while wisdom allows one to interpret what is perceived.
At their root, to see is to know, but true wisdom comes from understanding what is seen.

“To reach satisfaction in all, desire satisfaction in nothing.” – St. John of the Cross
The Dark Night of the Soul is one of the most profound mystical writings in Christian theology, penned by St. John of the Cross, a 16th-century Spanish mystic and Carmelite friar. This work explores the painful yet transformative process of spiritual purification, where the soul is stripped of attachments and led toward divine union. It is a journey through suffering, doubt, and emptiness—a necessary passage for ultimate enlightenment.
Contrary to common belief, the Dark Night of the Soul is not merely about depression or despair. It is a stage in the soul’s ascent to God, where all earthly securities, pleasures, and even spiritual consolations are removed. The soul, accustomed to sensory experiences of God, is left in a state of darkness, unable to rely on reason or feeling.
St. John describes two main phases of the dark night:
St. John explains that this painful process is necessary for the soul to be freed from illusions and distractions. It is through suffering that divine love burns away impurities, much like fire purifies gold. In this darkness, one learns:
“Oh, night that guided me, Oh, night more lovely than the dawn, Oh, night that joined Beloved with lover, Lover transformed in the Beloved!”
This famous passage from The Dark Night reveals the paradox of suffering—it leads to ultimate union with the divine.
Many mystics and seekers throughout history have undergone this experience, including St. Teresa of Ávila and even modern figures like Mother Teresa. To navigate the dark night, one must:
The Dark Night of the Soul is not an end but a passage—a necessary purgation before true enlightenment. It teaches that spiritual life is not about constant consolation but about radical surrender. As St. John writes, “The endurance of darkness is preparation for great light.”
For those who feel lost in their own dark night, take heart: what seems like the absence of God is often His deepest work within. The dawn will come, and with it, a love beyond all understanding.