The Titan theme by Themefoundry.

So I’m assuming most of you have WordPress blogs or are thinking about switching over to WP.

For a long time I’ve hesitated really playing with my blog because when I look at code in backend–html and php–I always think the same thing–”I’m gonna kill my blog if I mess with this.”

The thing is, I’ve really wanted to change the typography and look of my blog and make it my own, not just a standard theme. This weekend I found the answer: you make a “child theme.”

What is a child theme?

A child theme is basically a super-miniature theme (it just has a single component, the style.css sheet you create–instructions below) that borrows all the code from a “parent.” This allows you to mess around with whatever elements you want–fonts, colors, spacing, images–just by copying and pasting little snippets of code to your child theme and experimenting with them.

No matter what changes you make to your child theme, you can always erase them and start over, or just save your changes, then switch back to the parent theme so it’s the one that’s “live” after you’re done working. You can then go back and play around on your child theme again later as a work in progress.

I learned all of this from a very good pictorial introduction to making child themes that takes you through how to set one up step by step.

[Note: there's one stipulation for all of this--you have to have FTP access to your WordPress blog to do this. You can't create these if it's just a WordPress.com blog.]

Here’s an outline:

1. Find the directory listing name (caps sensitive) of your theme. For example, my theme is “Thematic” however the directory listing (the listing that’s on my server uploaded via FTP is “thematic”).

2. Copy and paste the following into a text editor (with the blanks filled out according to your info):

/*
Theme Name: name your child theme whatever you want, for example, ‘your remix”
Theme URI: put the url of your blog here
Description: put a description recognizing this as a child theme, ex: ‘child theme for thematic’
Author: your name
Author URI: put your blog url here
Template: the directory listing of your parent theme, for example ‘thematic’
Version: put whatever you want here. ‘1.0′ is a logical first version
*/

@import url(“../thematic/style.css”);

In this example I’m using thematic as the parent theme. For your own blog you have to put in whatever the directory listing is, for example, let’s say your theme is “kubrick,” then the bottom line would read:

@import url(“../kubrick/style.css”);

This bottom line is basically the only code in your entire theme. It’s simply telling WordPress to import all of the styles from whatever the parent theme or “template” you’ve listed.

3. Once you’ve completed this doc, save it as exactly this: style.css (it has to have a css or Cascading Style Sheet extension).

4. Create a new directory in the themes folder with the name you’re giving your theme, for example “your remix.”

5. Upload the style.css into this folder via FTP.

6. Go to the backend of your blog, then Appearance>>Themes, and, if you’ve done everything correctly, you should see your new child theme (there won’t be a screen shot, but you’ll see the name / info you put in) listed under available themes. Click activate.

7. Because your child theme is simply importing everything from your parent theme, it will look identical. Now you can have fun. Open the Appearance>>Editor, then choose style.css (you should see exactly the same doc you created.) Now go back to the stylesheet of your parent theme (you can download it onto your desktop or just view via FTP) and look for things you want to change. Copy those, then paste them into your child theme stylesheet open here in the editor.

8. If you’re like me and stylesheets just seem like impossible to follow jibberish, you can download a sweet tool for Firefox called Firebug that enables you to click on the elements of a page and then it gives you the corresponding CSS code. This allows you to look at your parent theme in a different window, click on parts you want to change, then copy the CSS code it gives you and paste it into the editor.

All of this stuff is very time-consuming at first, but it feels good to begin modifying your blog and not worrying that you’ll ruin anything.

Please comment below if you have questions or advice.

Photo: Divine Harvester

NEVER FEAR, every rucksack travel vlogger has been guilty of these video crimes at some point.

The overall elements of suckage fall under several categories, including:

Redundancies

Don’t show us anything that is already known implicitly if it doesn’t add anything new to the story or to you as a character. Kudos for taking the time and effort to document your adventure, now fight the urge to make a cookie cutter travel video.

Time Wastage

Cut to the chase & mind our fickle attention spans. The average time spent on most web pages is mere moments, make good use of your nanosecond of my waning concentration.

Snore Induction

Your experience traveling is unique, intrigue us with the peculiarities of travel by offering us only the best, most intriguing aspects of your journey. Your new video editing mantra ~ “All Killer, no Friggin Filler!”

Lameness

Shitty “windswept” audio, awkward narration, cliches, cultural insensitivity, shots of people who clearly don’t want to be filmed, bad transitions…the catalog of lameness is long and lame.

5 WAYS TO SUCK

Within these general categories, here are some specific ways people mess up their travel videos:

NO PACKING!

We all know that you have packed your bags and you have brought extra underwear and Imodium… let’s not beat a dead horse.

NO AIRPORTS!

Yes, it is your first video in your “series.” Yes, you are catching a place to [wherever] and you are uber excited. But spare us the airport, airplane, baggage carousel and get to the meat.

NO CAMERA OUT THE WINDOW DRIVING SHOTS!

You are in a car/bus/tuk tuk and are stoked for the rolling hills/jungle/plains rushing past, but trust me, this shot is not going to turn out. It will be skewed, shaky and probably focused on the smear of mosquito on the window and not the gorgeous dusk parallax.

Pull over and get a shot.

NO HOMERIC EPICS!

Short and sweet, that is what your travel vids should be. Keep them hovering around 5 minutes at the most and if you can get them down to 2 minutes you are a champ.

We want snacks; short & easily digestible travel vids that don’t take all day to load and watch.

Less is more. I had someone forward me their travel video that clocked in at 48 minutes last week. My god, if your name is Sir David Attenborough, then OK. If your name is Joe Blow, spare me!

NO AWKWARD MOMENTS!

Remember your mom swinging the over-sized camcorder in clumsy arches, telling everybody to “Say hi” and asking awkward, camera shy siblings “Where are we?”

It wasn’t cool then, and it certainly isn’t cool now.

EVEN MORE WAYS TO SUCK

NO MUSIC: Tunes that add to the flow and feeling of your vid are a must. Go one further and use only artists you have permission from or Creative Commons beats.

NO CREDITS: If you are using music or have had help filming / producing / editing your video, credit those that have contributed either at the end of the video or in your description.

PHOTOS: Going from video to a montage of still photos is a video killer. If I want to peep your photos I will follow the links to your Matador gallery.

COMPRESSION: You have a dope video but didn’t compress it in high quality… why??
Say it with me; 1280 X 720HD

You don’t have to suffer from sucky travel videos. Reclaim your travel vid and treat the symptoms of suckage with attentive practice and an unwavering eye for awesome.

COMMUNITY CONNECTION

All photos courtesy of Uncornered Market

The dynamic duo behind the popular Uncornered Market brand, Audrey Scott and Daniel Noll’s photography has appeared on AOL Travel, Huffington Post, and BBC’s Your Portfolio, and they’ve worked as photojournalists with Kiva and Five Talents International, documenting their microfinance projects in Asia and South America.

MatadorU faculty and travel photographer Lola Akinmade chatted with the nomadic couple to learn more about their documentary style of photography.

How long have you been professional photographers?

If you count the time we have been actively earning money as photographers, a little over three years. Before this time, we had taken part in group photography exhibitions in Prague, Czech Republic.

Example of photography exhibition (Audrey): Dream Girls @ Tina B (2006)

What – or who – got your initial interest going in terms of photography?

Audrey: My interest in photography started young; I was fortunate to take a photography course in high school that introduced me to the basics of an SLR camera and how to develop black and white photos in a darkroom. I took a break from photography for a few years, but then got back into it when we lived in Prague and I needed a creative outlet from my left-brained job.

Daniel: Travel was the impetus for my interest in photography. I also needed a creative outlet to balance my professional life as a management consultant. Prior to traveling to India, I bought a new camera (Pentax ZX-50 was my first). Later, I took a black and white photography class with a terrific instructor who viewed photography through the eyes of a painter first, and a technician second.

What were your first photographic experiments or experiences?

Audrey: My first deliberate photography experiments I can remember were taking photos of animals while on safari in Tanzania while on vacation in high school and printing them on heavy stock drawing paper (by painting chemicals on different surfaces) in my high school’s darkroom. It was the idea that you could combine photography with other mediums as an art form.

Daniel: My first photographic experience was also my first trip outside of North America: India and Australia. However, I only really began to understand photography after experimenting in black and white. Two experiences stand out: photographing tulips at the Jardin de Tuileries in Paris and photographing people on the streets of North Beach, the neighborhood where I lived in San Francisco.

How would you describe the work you do now…obviously there’s a strong reportage / photojournalistic element, but are you involved in the commercial world also? Any stock photography?

Our photographic angle is mainly documentary. We aim to share the spirit of the places we visit and the people we meet on our journey. Additionally, we have executed customized photography projects with microfinance organizations and NGOs. These projects challenge us to convey the spirit of the programs, the people involved, and the effects of the programs on their communities through photographs.

Although our photography careers began with a substantial stock photography sale of travel images from Europe, we have done little in the commercial world of photography since then. We choose to focus on gathering impressions and executing projects.

Most of our stock photography sales have occurred because publications or NGOs have found our website and have then chosen to purchase usage licenses. We have not yet begun to market our photos through traditional stock photography sites.

What three tips would you share for amateur photographers who are interested in pursuing your style of photography?

While technical proficiency is important to photo taking, we feel that our non-technical skills (e.g., communication skills) aid us most in getting memorable images.

a) Make sure that you’ve tapped into your passion. If you are not passionate about your subject(s), it’s time to find other subjects or possibly another discipline.

b) Allow your curiosity — in a person, culture or place – guide you in finding interesting and unique photographic subjects. For example, we enjoy going where ordinary people spend their time; a stop at the local fresh market is usually the first thing we do when we arrive in a new location.

c) Develop a relationship with the person you are photographing. In addition to learning about the person’s life, this helps build trust and allows your subject to relax and appear more natural in the photo.

You’ve been working with micro-finance organizations such as Kiva for awhile now. Can you tell us more? How you became interested in this project?

Audrey: I had been interested in microfinance for over a decade, but my experience was limited to reading books about it (i.e., theoretical). One of my goals was to see microfinance in action on the ground. As our people photography skills improved, we approached microfinance organizations, like Kiva, with our portfolio to see if they would be interested in working with us.

We provide high quality photos the organization can use for PR, marketing or fundraising purposes. We’ve worked with three different microfinance organizations in six countries. These projects usually take us to places far off the beaten path and allow us to really understand a country’s socio-economic issues.

Daniel: I just follow Audrey and take the photos. On a more serious note, these projects take us to locations that we otherwise wouldn’t experience, thereby adding another dimension to our around-the-world journey.

A few images from our work with microfinance organizations – View Gallery.

Which other photographers – old or contemporary – inspire you most?

Audrey: When I was young and shooting black and white, I was a fan of Ansel Adams. In Prague, I respected the work of my teacher Minna Pyyhkala and also became interested in Cindy Sherman.

Daniel: Henri Cartier-Bresson. Ansel Adams, too. I’m probably sub-consciously inspired by Realist and Impressionist painters.

When you are approaching subjects to shoot, how do you set about it? Do you chat and explain what you’re doing? Or shoot first, ask questions later?

Usually, we ask permission when shooting people. If there is no common spoken language, then we ask through charades. For example, pointing to the camera and then smiling at the person as if to say, “Is it OK?” The exception is when we’re taking street or market shots from a distance and there are many subjects.

For example, let’s say there’s a woman selling vegetables at the market. We’ll approach and ask her about the vegetables we are unfamiliar with – the local name for them, how to cook them, what they taste like, etc. Then we’ll ask if we can take her photo and photos of her produce. Since many people are anxious around a DSLR, this is where having two people working together is really useful. One of us will continue to talk with the person while the other photographs. The person usually forgets the camera and the shot is more natural.

This process of approaching people gets easier over time and with practice. If we look at our early photographs, there aren’t as many photos of people because we were more hesitant about engaging with people.

What’s the craziest or most inspiring encounter you’ve had in general?

That’s a hard one. Probably the most inspiring encounters we’ve had were in remote villages in West Bengal, India when we were on a microfinance photography project. The beauty and confidence of the people we met was incredible. The stories they told about how they were able to use small loans and self-help groups to improve their self-confidence and earn as much as their husbands — that really blew us away.

Here’s the first part of the story.

What kit do you use / carry with you / can’t do without (camera make, lenses, flashguns etc.)?

- Nikon D300 – our main camera

- Nikkor 18-200 mm lens – what we use 90% of the time for flexibility

- Sigma Fisheye 8 mm lens – for spherical panoramic and fisheye photography

- Tokina Macro Lens (AT-X 100mm f/2.8) – used sometimes for portraits, but mostly for macro images of flowers, bugs, animals, etc.

- Nikkor 18-70 mm lens – backup in case the 18-200 mm lens breaks, which happened to us in Ecuador

We also carry a handheld camera (Panasonic Lumix DMC-ZS3) to quickly capture scenes where the DSLR might be awkward, take out at night and shoot video. The quality of the images is great and because it’s so small we can take it everywhere with us. Much of our food photography has been shot with the various handheld cameras we have carried.

Full list of what we’re carrying with us is here: http://www.uncorneredmarket.com/2008/03/our-office-less-office/

Finally, what else are you working on right now and what are your ambitions for the future in terms of your photography work?

We are currently planning a microfinance photo shoot in East Africa (Kenya, Tanzania, Uganda, Sudan, and Burundi).

For the future: a book or two.

Community Connection

Please read our other recent interviews with Travel Photographers.

Donkey Market, Gizeh, 1900-ish. Brooklyn Museum

FIRST SOME CONTEXT (from the editor): Not long ago, from the New York Times Magazine, we got a rough overview of online news-and-writing ventures such as The Faster Times and True/Slant. What did these bustling start-ups mean for the future of publishing? Would any of them make it? If so, what was the secret?

The bright new model, it seemed, was one in which the lone (read: unemployed) journalist/entrepreneur banded together with others of his or her ilk to publish, promote, and ultimately, we hoped, profit in some small way from what he or she could not help but continue to do from the echoing depths of his or her basement, or from the road: i.e. to create “content.”

For just whose benefit, exactly, remained very much in question. Though of course from our vantage here at Matador it seemed a decent step up from the Brazilian-gold-mine model of content-agglomeration pioneered by the likes of huffpost and examiner.com.

Then came the news that Forbes, that armada of well-stocked galleons from the Old World, had for an undisclosed sum acquired True/Slant. Was it good news? Perhaps. Or perhaps not.

Here’s our man Robert E. Cox with some thoughts on the subject (for which he will be paid the approximate market value of a fifth of mid-shelf bourbon whiskey):

THERE’S BEEN A LOT OF NIBBLING AROUND THE EDGES of this type of flea market for journalists — and logically so; the internet lends itself to this sort of thing — and the entry of Forbes brings a heavy-hitter to the table, which might move the concept to a higher mesa.

A couple of things strike sour notes. One, the concept of “journalist as entrepreneur” seems an oxymoron; a dangerous one at that. There should be at least a friendly conflict between the reporter (journalist) and the publisher (entrepreneur). Journalists are supposed to tell the truth; publishers are supposed to make money. Reporters drink bourbon, publishers drink Scotch. The two are not precisely compatible.

But the two are symbiotic — the reporter relies on the strength and backup of the publisher to stand behind him/her whenever somebody gets pissed off about a story and comes a-threatening. That relationship has always been the rock upon which good reporting has rested, and the decline of big, well-funded, powerful daily newspapers, I’m afraid, marks the beginning of a decline in the number of reporters willing to publish unpleasant facts. And those “unpleasant” ones are the facts we really need to know. Will Forbes and other flea-marketeers be there to back up its contributors when they get threatened? I’m doubtful.

It also grates a bit to read that the contributors to this venture will receive “bonuses” from Big Daddy in return for drawing readers to the advertising that Big Daddy sells. Something’s wacky there: I think that the creator of the product — the written material — should get the lion’s share of income derived from the creation, and that the middleman — in this case Forbes — should get a smaller piece of the loot for distributing the product and selling the advertising. Sort of like the relationship between the ketchup manufacturer and the trucking company. What’s more valuable here, the ketchup or the trucks?

“Bonus,” my butt. Just pay me for my stuff. I’ll go away happy.

(I’m envisioning a day in the future when writers take to the streets and unionize for fair wages. Back to the future, eh?)

All that said, this seems to be the way things are heading, and as long as there are more people dying to become writers, there will be publishers concocting ways to get rich off their labors.

Community Connection

What do you think? Is it pure nostalgia to dream of journalists and publishers as not just separate hats but separate people? Does it make sense to put the creators of content also squarely in charge of its distribution? Will all this ever settle down, so we can just get back to reading and writing?

Like me, you probably haven’t heard of the photographer Ruby Ellenby. Ruby had her first photography exhibition a few weeks ago at Moshi Moshi restaurant in San Francisco.

The 22 images on display had a charming, everyday simplicity about them – a shot of leaves on the floor, a shaky, abstract image of branches against a pale winter sky – and shot from low angles. Entirely fitting, given Ruby is just three years old.

The story was covered in the San Francisco Chronicle back in March and recently made national TV.

While reading through these posts I noticed many of the comments were negative. A lot of photographers and so called ‘art lovers’ seem to have taken serious offense that a gallery would dedicate space to images taken by a three year old. People have dissed Ruby’s photography skills, and even suggested the parents are using their contacts to draw attention to their own work.

I think these people are missing the point. While I agree that the images aren’t creatively astounding or worthy of an exhibition in any ‘professional’ sense, I don’t think that’s what the parents, child or restaurant are trying to say.

To my mind the exhibition says more about the process of taking photographs than the photographs themselves. It shows just how accessible and simple photography can be. How it’s not about a particular brand of camera or expensive lenses, the subtleties of exposure or achieving the correct depth of field — but about exploration and curiosity.

Ruby’s photos may not be technically perfect or aesthetically mind-blowing, but by putting them on public display they help remind us of what photography fundamentally is: an individual record of our attempts to understand and view the world around us.

Community Connection

What do you think about Ruby’s photos?
Are these critics just jealous?
How does it change the way one’s work is perceived once it’s given an exhibition?

Please share your thoughts below.

The author, self-portrait, Lago Inferior, Patagonia, Chile. All photos by David Miller.

• Location: Sendero a Los Hitos, P.N. Lago Puelo, Patagonia
• Total distance covered: 36km
• Time: 2 days, 1 night
• Continuous hours hiking: 8 first day, 10 the second
• Creeks / rivers crossed: 24 (Rio Azul crossed by boat, all others on foot)
• Approx. distance trail itself was essentially a creek: 3 km
• Average temperature: 42 degrees F/ 5.6 C
• Approx. # of hours feet were wet: 15
• Passport stamps: 4 (2 entry / 2 exit, Chile / Argentina)

Km 0.0 - Finished packing. Realized fastex buckle on hip-belt was broken. Looked for replacement (none). Took this as possible bad omen. Visualized being unable to adequately tighten hip-belt and having pack kill shoulders for 2 days. Said “fuck it” then tied loose straps in square knot. Walked out of house. Looked at sky over cordillera (rainclouds). Thought about it raining almost continuously over the past 2 days.

Km. 0.1 - Got picked up by guy in rusted-out Ford Falcon. Took this as possible good omen. Thought about so many times trying to hitch on A.T (Appalachian Trail) when nobody would stop.  Said “gracias,” and the man said “porque?” in a way that didn’t sound like an expression, but literally “why?”

Km. 0.2 - Waited for bus to Lago Puelo. Thought about looking in fly-shop for replacement piece for hip-belt even though I realized shop wasn’t open yet.

Thought “this is how it used to feel ‘interacting’ with towns on the trail–wandering around looking for replacement gear, parts, food, liquor, showers, then hiking back up into the woods where you seemed to belong.

Km 0.8 - Walked from end of bus line at Lago Puelo to park entrance. Saw horses trotting down center of road. Felt urge to take morning shit. Saw that no rangers had arrived at park entrance even though it was scheduled to open already. Rested pack against hut. Bushwhacked 15 meters through mosqueta along roadside. Dug latrine with knife. Defecated. Decided against waiting for park rangers to show up. Entered park without registering / paying.

Km. 1.2 – Walked to edge of dock. Met Javier (boat captain) + kid. Was ferried by kid to other side of delta.

Lago Puelo + boat = huge backcountry access.

Studied three separate crossings that would have to be waded if you didn’t get ferried by boat. Looked at current entering Lago Puelo and threading through dock pilings,  forming last eddy on the Rio Azul. Said this to kid, “El ultimo eddy.”

Km 1.8 – Found campground / house on other side of headland was closed. Petted 3 dogs guarding house. Couldn’t find signage / directions to trail. Noticed footpath going up headland behind house. Climbed .5 km. Realized it couldn’t the trail. Turned around. Crossed campground, creek. Saw the trail on the other side. Felt sense of  “now I’m starting.” Ate dried figs, chocolate.

Km 3.5 - Climbed past sign of trail cut-off to pasarela (hanging-bridge). Made mental note for hike back. Overheated. Took off jacket. Drank water.

Km 4.2 - Entered super dense old-growth Cohiue forest. Crossed several small streams. Noticed very few tracks. Noticed very little birdsound. Wondered why there wasn’t more wildlife.

Thought about Lau and Layla at home waking up, having breakfast. Felt lonely. Thought “I should be ‘documenting’ this.” Stopped and took picture of forest (pictured here).

Saw mossed-over stack of logs. Wondered about the “viejo poblador” (original settler) who must’ve cut them. Felt stoked for some reason.

Envisioned new series on my blog (“things that make me stoked”). Tried to calm mind and just look at trail. Started getting cold. “Created” song in my head (mix of Deerhunter + reggae bassline?) that lasted 30 minutes and helped ascent of next hill. Tried to empty mind again and thought “it’s hard.” Began steep descent towards lake on super wet, loose rock.

Km 4.8 – Arrived at Gendarmeria: two large buildings, white with green roofs.  Saw young Argentine soldiers + paisanos trying to fix small dam that had flooded. Walked inside. Noticed crucifix on wall. Was questioned by an older (late 50s) white-looking officer in distrustful / angry way:  What was my occupation? Do I have family here in Argentina? Was questioned by young Indian-looking soldier who seemed to want to impress officer and began asking things in an aggressive way:  Was I just doing this to renew visa? How long was I planning to spend here?

Thought “jesus dude I’m just out here hiking, sort of.” Looked at pouches under white officer’s eyes. Visualized violent things he might’ve done as a young soldier during the dirty war. Told them: “Che, I’m trying to process my residencia but it’s taking forever for them to send the paperwork.” Thought how people are less alienated when you operate using same social / cultural cues. Thought “they don’t know / care about ‘being a writer,’ but they know about waiting on fucking paperwork.”

Km 5.8 - Continued hiking while thinking about white officer as symbolic of what men fear–not fear in the sense of being afraid of but something you feared becoming–old / soft / angry, trying to hold whatever power you could over others. Thought “let it go.” Thought “empty mind.” Hiked multiple ascents and descents, very steep, with much of trail essentially a flowing creek. Felt socks soaking through.

Reached creek that was too high to cross without wading. Searched upstream / crossed via log + semi-submerged rocks. Noticed sky was darker, but couldn’t tell if it was cloud cover or position of sun. Got cold. Started climbing again, then overheated. Reached higher elevation forest full of caña colihue. Broke off two stalks for walking sticks.

Mouth of Lago Puelo / birth of Rio Puelo.

Km 6.8 – Summited vista overlooking Lago Puelo. Felt lonely / cold. Ate peanut butter and oat cereal + chocolate. Took picture. Started worrying I was moving too slow. Felt feet begin to numb.

Km 8.4 - Reached border crossing / sign that said LIMITE CON CHILE. Thought about taking picture but hands were too cold / energy level too low. Thought about how people like to look at pictures of signs.

Km 9.8 – Reached dangerous creek crossing: water too high to cross in regular spot. Found pair of wet logs upstream spanning a steep constricted drop. Untied pack, threw walking sticks across, and butt-slid on logs. Estimated log-breakage / fall would mean 50% chance of death by entrapment and drowning / 80% chance of severe injury / 100% chance of hypothermia / extreme difficulty recovering gear / building emergency camp / fire.

Km 13.7 - Crossed several minor creeks. Noticed beginning of pain / inflammation in ligaments in left knee. Felt lower pant-legs / long underwear soaking through. Started getting panic feeling of “I’m not going to make it.” Thought “I haven’t really gone that far / what the fuck is going on with my body / am I just turning into an old fuck?” Felt need to defecate but didn’t want to stop / get cold. Passed good campsite, then thought “I should’ve stopped there.” Started feeling dehydrated. Filled up water bottle at creek. Thought “the terrain is brutal but at least the water is all good to go.”

Km 14. 7 – Began limping due to increasing pain in left knee. Continued worrying how I’d make it tomorrow. Wondered about transport options out of Lago Inferior.

Started slipping in various places on trail. Realized I had no energy left. Felt cold but then began long climb and started overheating. Felt uncomfortable pressure in bowels.

Km 15.3 - Reached abandoned farm. Defecated at edge of field. Burned toilet paper. Explored farm. Took pictures of Cerro Aguja Norte + outbuildings. Saw that sky had cleared somewhat. Noticed one outbuilding had dozens of wire hooks in ceiling. Realized this was where they kept sheep that had been butchered.

Set up tent. Took off wet gear. Got in bag. Felt legs / back almost completely immobile. Boiled water for miso soup. Opened wine (could only drink a couple sips). Looked at sunset. Took self-portrait and felt ridiculous.

Thought about having your days/nights “kept track of” in a passport. Checked water bottle (not enough for coffee in the morning). Took 2 ibuprofen + small swig of water. Started falling asleep.

Woke back up. Heard sound, a motor. Thought “someone approaching via motorcycle? (impossible), boat?” Then realized “generator at Chilean checkpoint .” Saw there was still a bit of color in the sky. Tried to lie back down. Heard a stamping sound. Looked out of tent: two horses. Thought “are they wild? (no, their tails are clipped–they belong to someone.)” Thought “isn’t it strange camping here, where a family or families once lived?” Thought “No, what’s strange is how almost every place has these stories, these places where other people once lived, it’s just that most of them have been covered over so long ago you forget you’re living on top of them.”

Woke up in morning to rain-sound on tent. Flexed knee (sore, but at least able to be flexed). Drank water. Fell back asleep again, maybe 30 minutes. Woke back up. Packed. Thought about so many mornings on the trail doing this, and the final move: putting on wet boots / pants/ jacket.

Km 15.6 – Reached Chilean checkpoint. Saw dilapidated structures, chicken house, horses. Walked into the building. Had passport stamped by a young Indian-looking solider. Smiled and felt stoked when I heard his accent.

Km 15.9 - Passed back by where I camped and saw the two horses from last night Felt happy. Stopped at creek below / filled up water bottle. Noted creek was significantly lower. Drank half a liter. Urinated. Noticed piss was very dark. Drank more water.

Km 24.6 – Felt for some reason I’d have trouble at the Argentine checkpoint. Visualized arguments / negative scenarios involving white soldier. Studied terrain / alternative routes for sneaking around if necessary. Noticed right calf / knee beginning to hurt from compensating for left side. Entered checkpoint. Saw paisanos waving at me approaching. Heard one yell out something.

Felt like they were watching me approach (after spending the night in cold / wet conditions) with certain air of respect and / or sense of “crazy gringo.” Had passport stamped by Indian-looking soldier. Saw white officer again, this time out of uniform, his eyes red, his nose watering–he appeared sick. Sensed that now these guys just wanted to talk. Answered their questions about trail conditions (flooded / very bad) and life in the US. Felt strangely relieved + emotional. Thought “why was I so worried about this?”

Km 28.1 - Ascended steeply 500 meters from lake. Reached old-growth forest / felt strangely alone again, same as yesterday. Ate last of cereal. Felt very cold + still. Found it difficult to put pack on + continue hiking.

Km 28.5 - Reached trail cut-off to pasarela. Visualized walking across bridge back into town, calling a taxi or catching a bus home.

Km 32 – Felt relieved that trail towards pasarela seemed to be roadway instead of trail through woods. Thought “it will be easier to follow once it gets dark.” Put on headlamp.

Km 35 – Night-hiked road until it dead-ended at the river. Thought “WTF? No pasarela?” Realized the trail must’ve cut off from the road somewhere but I’d missed it in the dark.

Started walking along bank but it became steep / impossible to follow. Shined headlamp through water and imagined fording at night (suicidal). Visualized camping and trying in the morning. Visualized girls at home (frightened b/c I didn’t make it back). Thought about walking back uphill and looking for missed trailhead but realized it would be impossible to find in dark + I was too tired.

Shined headlamp up slope. Started climbing ridge using animal trails. Continued downstream via animal trails. Ended up at chacra.

Km 36 – Saw hundreds of eyes lighting up in my headlamp beam (sheep). Heard dogs barking. Saw light on in farmhouse. Clapped my hands (in 2-3 clave, 1-2, 1-2-3) like the people here in the campo (no doorbells). Saw man my age come out / tell the dogs to hush. Said “Sorry to bother you. I got lost. I was looking for the pasarela,” then felt sense of flow occurring as he said “you want me to ferry you across here en barco?” Walked down to the river with him and got in a small rowboat. Asked his name (Juan). Watched him rowing us out of the eddy. Felt the boat enter the current. Cut off headlamp. Rested. Noticed for the first time that the sky was finally clear. Heard the sound of the oars in the water. Looked up at the stars.

Community Connection

What’s the strangest border you’ve ever crossed?
Have you ever snuck around a border?
Do you feel like you have to trick border guards or do you just “be yourself?”
What’s the longest you’ve ever hiked with wet feet?
Have you ever crossed a creek / river where you felt like there was a decent chance of dying?
Have you ever felt existential dread about dealing with your passport?

.

All photos courtesy of Gail Mooney-Kelly

For over 30 years, Gail Mooney-Kelly has been shooting photos for National Geographic, Travel + Leisure, Time/Life, Smithsonian, as well as the Mexico and Hong Kong tourism boards. She’s currently gearing up for a round-the-world trip which will become a full-length documentary.

Matador Editor and travel photographer Lola Akinmade caught up with Gail before her trip to talk about the industry and making it as a professional photographer.

How long have you been a professional photographer?

I’ve been a professional photographer since 1977 – 33 years. It’s been my sole job as well as my sole income source.

What – or who – got your initial interest going in terms of photography?

I wasn’t one of those kids that “took the family pictures”. I actually didn’t get interested in photography until after a year long backpacking trip. I had been studying architecture at Syracuse University and decided to leave after my sophomore year to do some traveling. What was intended as a 2 month trip, turned into a year long backpacking odyssey.

I realized then that I wanted to pursue a career that would give me access to cultures and opportunities to travel – pursuing the career of still photographer seemed like the perfect choice.

When I returned to the US, I enrolled in Brooks Institute to learn the craft and graduated with a Bachelor of Fine Arts. More important than the degree was learning the technical aspects of photography which was essential at that time before advances in technology gave us cameras that were “automatic”.

What were your first photographic experiments or experiences?

I assisted a studio photographer in NYC the first year after graduating from Brooks Institute but my heart was in the “editorial” world. I wanted to work for magazines. I also started doing little jobs that my boss wasn’t interested in.

There’s a story I like to tell that was one of the turning points in my life. I went to see Jay Maisel, a legendary commercial photographer who was also known for his bluntness. I showed Jay, my technically perfect photos from school assignments and he looked me straight in the face and said “this is crap” – “this isn’t where your heart is”.

I was stunned by his direct manner and told him that I really wanted pursue a career as a photojournalist but that everyone told me those days were gone and that to make any money I had to shoot commercially. He then asked me how old I was and I replied, 25 years old.

Then he said something that I will always remember – he said, “you’re 25 years old and you’re already making compromises?”

How would you describe the work you do now…obviously there’s a strong travel editorial element, but are you involved in the photojournalism/documentary reporting world also? Any stock photography?

I have always worked in both the editorial world as well as the commercial world of photography to make ends meet – but my heart is in publishing and telling the story.

I do have many of my images licensed through various stock photography outlets and I am able to be in that position to continue to make money from my images because I have maintained ownership and copyright to my work.

These days I shoot a lot of video in addition to my still photography and continue to pursue photojournalistic/documentary work. I have also become my own publisher because distribution these days is in everyone’s hands through the internet and iTunes.

One doesn’t need validation these days from large publishing houses to be able to create meaningful bodies of work and documentaries and get them out to the public to be seen and to create awareness and to also create a direct revenue stream. It’s an amazing time.

What 3 tips would you share for amateur photographers who are interested in pursuing your style of travel photography?

1.You have to “just do it”. The more you shoot on your own – the better you’ll get.

2. Be fearless. If you want to shoot travel – you need to absorb yourself in the culture.

3. Register your work with the copyright office and maintain your copyright.

You’ve photographed for the holy grail of magazines, National Geographic. Can you share some practical insights into working with the magazine?

I got my start with the Geographic through timing and pure tenacity. I also took the time to do my homework which I would recommend anybody doing in regards to working for whatever magazines they set their sights on.

Know the magazine.

Know the kind of stories they do and the approach they take.

Shoot stories on your own and propose them to the magazine.

It’s a long shot but if the story is good and unique – you’ll be in a good position. The idea is to get in the door. To do that you have to stand out. There is a lot of great work out there and you need to sell yourself and your ideas.

But mostly you have to want it bad enough to make them want you. Here’s one of my encounters with legendary Director of Photography for the National Geographic, Bob Gilka.

Which other photographers – old or contemporary – inspire you most?

Cartier-Bresson, Margaret Bourke White, Robert Frank, Eugene Smith, Jay Maisel, Walker Evans – I could go on and on. I’m also inspired by painters, writers, poets, and musicians.

When you are approaching subjects to shoot, how do you set about it? Do you chat and explain what you’re doing? Or shoot first, ask questions later?

Great question and it all depends on the situation and culture. For me, I need to be sensitive to the situation – like I said, to absorb the culture. Many times, I just wait and observe so that I almost become a fixture in the scene and not noticed anymore.

Then I shoot. But sometimes, you know the moment is not going to wait so you just shoot. If I approach someone, I almost after do it after getting my candid shot.

What’s the craziest or most inspiring encounter you’ve had in general?

I’ve had a lot of crazy encounters because I put myself out there and have ended up in some pretty crazy environments and situations.

The inspiring encounters are more etched in my mind. I did a story about for Smithsonian about the smallest county in the United States – small in terms of population. I almost turned the story down because I was kind of a city shooter – a street shooter if you will.

But I took a chance and it ended up being one of the most memorable and gratifying assignments I ever had – mostly because of the people I met.

Here’s a blog post I wrote about one day I spent on this assignment.

What kit do you use / carry with you / can’t do without (camera make, lenses, flashguns etc.)?

Normally I take two cameras – Canon EOS Mark II and Canon 5D – although I just bought a Canon 5D Mark II and a Canon 7D that have video capabilities.

Lenses: Canon 16-35mm f 2.8, Canon 24-70mm f2.8, Canon 70-200mm f.28, Canon 70-300 f.4.35, Canon flash, Bogen tripod, Epson P6000 digital wallet.

Here is what I’m taking on my next journey.

Finally, what else are you working on right now and what are your ambitions for the future in terms of your photography work or anything else?

I am departing on Tuesday, May 25th with my daughter to embark on a round the world trip, creating a documentary about people who are making a positive difference in the world – 6 people on 6 continents. You can follow our journey at Opening Our Eyes.

Community Connection

Please read our other recent interviews with Travel Photographers.

FIRST he walked from LA to San Diego, capturing the journey for his video series The Walkstars.

Then in Scootstars Peter putted across America on scooters that max out at 29mph documenting the interactive journey in 31 episodes.

His latest travel video adventure, inTransit ,takes him from his native lands of LA to Panama, only utilizing the slow travel of public transportation.

inTransit episode 12

This week I caught up with Peter to talk travel video and the creative process.

How would you define your travel style?
I usually have a loose outline of where I’m going and take it from there. I’m alright with deviation. I don’t like to make reservations or plans, it stresses me out. But sometimes I have to.

Where were you when you realized that you loved to make travel videos?
I realized I enjoyed making travel videos when I noticed there was a potential audience to watch my videos. Thanks to YouTube and other outlets I was able to reach a larger audience. Otherwise, the videos I made were just for my friends and me.

An actual place would have to be midway through my attempt at walking around the island of Oahu. I was in my tent on the North Shore looking back at the footage I shot that day and thought “this is pretty cool, I think I might be onto something.”

Your videos have an intriguing aspect that sets the context for the travel, such as taking public transportation or a slow-ass scooter. Why is it important for you to have this framework?
It’s important because it helps me respect distance and time. You don’t know how far you’ve been or how far you’re going unless you’ve experienced it along the way. The challenge gives me the ability to focus on my surroundings. By taking it slow, you truly appreciate the good times whether it’s the cold beer at the end of the day, a warm shower, or the simple fact that you’re alive and doing something exciting.

Travel is a metaphor to life. You have your ups and downs, literally and figuratively, your peaks and valleys. Ok enough of the philosophical stuff, I guess I had to get it out. Sorry about that, I guess that’s what travel could do to you.

Do you travel to make videos or make videos while traveling?
Well, not sure how to answer that. If I’m visiting a place, chances are I won’t film. If I’m “traveling,” chances are I will. I like to put emphasis on the act of traveling, the action of getting from one point to the other. Otherwise I don’t believe I’m traveling, I’m just temporarily relocating. I think that’s the distinction I’m trying to create from other “travel shows.” Keyword here is “trying.” So if I’m going to film, there’ll be some thought / planning on the production side.

How did you get started creating media? What is the most important thing you have learned while making travel vids?
Growing up, my brother Dan was the director and I was the actor in our backyard film projects. He was into stop motion, editing, sound mixing, etc. I learned a lot through all of this. We always made videos for school projects, easy A’s.

Fast forward to 5 years ago, I got a video camera of my own as a gift and just kept filming stuff. I joined YouTube a few months after it came out and released some music videos/skits. Some got featured, which back in the day would give me a couple thousand views. I was amped on that and kept trying to find my niche.

I was addicted to those views. I created a series called “The WalkStars,” where a group of us walked from LA to San Diego. I’d film during the course of the day and then release an episode that night, creating a semi-realitime experience. As my audience grew, I was hooked on creating content.

The most important thing(s) I learned from making travel videos is that you could never shoot enough footage. Also, that when things get awkward you need to make it more awkward by whipping out the camera. That’s something I keep reminding myself to do. It’s easier said than done.

What aspect of creating your vids do you enjoy most?
The anticipation of traveling and then the release of a video. I love picking out production equipment and then trying to pack it all for the road.

What was your inspiration for inTransit?
Not sure. There are a lot of things that inspired inTransit. I think it was my senior year in high school. I would get out of class early and didn’t want to wait for the bus. So sometimes I would walk home which was about 6 miles away. Funny thing is, by the time I got near my house the bus was either trailing behind me or a friend would offer a ride. That got me into walking.

Growing up, our family used to travel a lot. Oftentimes we would take long road trips. We drove around Europe for 3 months in a camper van, down to Mexico from Chicago and all over the United States. So I guess it was in our blood to take part in these long distance journeys. I have to thank my parents for forcing us out of the house and onto the road.

Before inTransit, my brothers rode their bicycles across the United States. I didn’t go, so that also had something to do with it. I remember making a video/photo montage of their trip when they finished. I think I was secretly jealous, but still very proud.

What kind of crew did you have along with you?
Just myself and a camera guy I met off craigslist who is now a very good friend. My girlfriend joined us in Mexico City. She was our field producer. It was great that she was able to experience this type of travel. She was great at it! I like to keep the crew light. Mo’ people mo’ problems, no people no problems. You know what I’m saying?

What was your biggest challenge filming In Transit?
Probably being both a director and actor. You can’t run away from yourself, so it was hard to be motivated on different levels. That and not wanting to film a scenario, but forcing it. Like I said before, the awkward moments where you make it even more awkward.

So what is your next travel media scheme?
Not sure. I have a few ideas. I don’t want to commit to anything just yet. I hate saying I’m going to do a particular trip and then not pull it off. I’ll keep it in my head and then when the time comes, I’ll do it. There are so many possibilities out there. I’m also open to see what my audience is interested in.

THE STATS

Favorite Book: Islands in the Stream by Ernest Hemmingway

Last song Peter listened to: “Can you Discover?” – Discovery

Favorite Destination: My parents house in Illinois. They’re super cool, and I have a great time with them.

Twitter: @peterbragiel

Keep up to date with Peter’s latest travel video antics as the inTransit saga continues at www.intransit.tv

New York

Istanbul

The Alps

Seattle

Canary Islands

Spain

Tibet/China

COMMUNITY CONNECTION

Photo of author in Bodh Gaya

I BREATHE him in. I breathe him out.

Under the Bodhi Tree in Bodh Gaya, one breathes first and asks questions later.

Everything loses itself in currents of breath, in small measures of sanity.

Where the Buddha sat, I can almost feel the calm waters that opened to yank his hiking feet (Swimming was another story. A one-sided love affair.), his mouth full of Psalms, into the deep. Inside my deep, there is a sharp sadness. Will it exhaust itself one day, being impermanent, as the Buddha said all conditioned things were?

I think of the ancient marriage between travel and death. The traveler arrives at a sun-drenched port with his baggage of absence. He finds awaiting him the off-center life of a new land. A strangeness that breathes.

Bodh Gaya, a place wisdom created, is a kind of safe house for people like me who awake in the morning with the non-living. (I did not know my brother very well when he lived. My love for him embraced me from behind one afternoon, when I found him loitering where my roots were. What touches it, is absorbed in it.

All around me sit the women of Sri Lanka, in whose country for over twenty-five years bushels of violent death fell everywhere. Brothers and sisters were shot, bombed, tortured, driven ruthlessly from their bodies.

The Bodhi leaves stretch far from the base of the tree. They make room for all the grief shapes below, each with its own story flag.

Community Connection

Please read Robert Hirschfield’s other reflection on the Bodhi Tree.

For an overview of the Bodh Gaya, please read 5 Sacred Cities at Brave New Traveler.

Photo: Max-B

Happy Monday, gente.

While working this weekend I tried to ignore the headline “Movie Reveals Seamy Life of Facebook Boss” but eventually caved.

The story was about an upcoming movie based on Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg, and focused on the “seamy” depictions of him “receiving sex in bars, [while his business partner] Parker runs the business.”

What I love about this story, not the actual piece or the movie, but the events / characters they’re describing – is that regardless of what facts are true, part of what people are going to remember about Facebook, the mythology they’re going to create around it (maybe) is that it started with a kid getting dumped and looking for some kind of (most likely sexual) payback.

Which is a cliche, but also makes good movie material because (a) cliches are accepted / expected when there is a core element of “celebrity,” and (b) the image of the protagonist as “tarnished hero” combined with his youth allows the audience to (1) vicariously experience “naughtiness” while (2) still receiving a “payoff” vis-a-vis the hero’s redemption and “coming to terms with” / overcoming his flaws.*

Either way I doubt I’ll watch this movie.

_____

*I’m not sure about this, but it seems reasonable.

Backstory

More than anything, the article made me think about how everyone has a backstory and key events in his / her life, and how these key events impel people (or not) to do different things, make different choices. This seems especially relevant for writers and journalists, but it’s rare to ever learn about these events unless the writer or journo becomes famous / a good interview subject.

Still, how would it change the way we read something from an author if we knew the backstory in his / her life? Or for that matter, the immediate context?

For example, what if there were a kind of disclaimer at the beginning of a “flighty” piece on “20 things I wish I’d known about dating when I was 20″ that said: “I realize the tone of this piece is fluffy, but I had to write it on deadline and the truth is, this was hard for me because I have abandonment issues.”

When the context of writing is a will towards transparency, an act of moving upstream (“Man is a river whose source is hidden.” — Emerson) I feel like almost anything–a user’s profile on Facebook, a “how-to” on ramp-building written by a 15 yr. old skateboarder, a recipe for pumpkin bread–can have “literary value.”

I believe too that this is different than the literary movement ofconfessionalism, although it seems equally facile to dismiss / criticize it with the same argument, which is (paraphrasing from Robert Bly) that it tends to shift one’s attention away from the “suffering of others.”

You could say too that (especially in America), we’re already self-absorbed enough as it is, Facebook perhaps being the greatest emblem and enabler of self-absorption ever created.

But for me really it all comes down to style, to the way the “user” uses his / her account, the way the blogger uses his / her blog.

Facebook “Exodus”

Which brings me to the last point of today’s mashup, the “revolt” against Facebook planned at the end of this month. I’m not sure how to feel about this exactly. It doesn’t seem “heroic” to quit your Facebook account.

The main emotion I felt when reading about this story (and also typing about it right now) is a kind of general disgust at (and yet strangely, empathy with) the editor / writer who chose the word “exodus” to describe people just clicking some account options on their computers.

I wonder how Mark Zuckerman feels about it. I read in the article that he’d had to curtail his birthday celebration in the Caribbean for “crisis meetings.”

But damn, even as I type that sentence I’m already imaging it as a movie scene. Perhaps there would be a parallel montage, jump-cuts between satisfied-looking Facebook users deleting their accounts and a pissed-off-looking Zuckerman staring out the window of a private jet flying back to Facebook Headquarters.

I think the most important question then: What would be the soundtrack be?

Community Connection

Are you going to participate in the Facebook “revolt”?

How do you feel about writers revealing their motivations? Does that kill the story or add to it or neither / both?

Please share you comments below.

Photo: JoshuaDavisPhotography.com

I was just reading an article called “30 Photography Magazines Worth Subscribing To” over at Photo Tuts +, and it got me thinking about what a pleasure it is to leaf through a copy of National Geographic or a specialist title like Digital Photographer over a cup of coffee — preferably away from the laptop and its insistent tugs for your attention.

That feeling when the world around you deliquesces as you immerse yourself in one glorious, glossy travel photo after another until the next thing you know an hour has slipped by. It feels like such a rare and dignified treat these days.

There’s far more photography on the internet than there is in print, but somehow (and this applies to the printed word too, for me) there’s something “purer” in browsing a magazine – or newspaper, or art book etc. – than the computer screen.

This is partly due to being a published photographer and loving to see my work in print mags but I think mostly due to the lack of distractions. Reading a decent-sized article or looking at amazing photos on the internet is the equivalent, for me, of sitting down in a cafe with the latest issue of your favorite new magazine and having a bunch of strangers start talking loudly at you, “poking” you, calling your cellphone repeatedly, jumping up and down and waving their hands in front of you, and hurling handwritten messages at your face.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not an anti-internet Luddite type. I love the fact the internet and other technologies have made photography so much more accessible and exciting. And I know, I know, I could turn the internet connection off. In fact I’ve tried, but it’s still there – humming and glowering, silently imploring me to turn it back on.

“C’mon dude,” it whispers (it has serious Californian aspirations). “Y’know I got untold visual treats for yo’ ass.”

So, no: a “non invasive” environment works way better for me when it comes to these treasured and rare moments. And it was therefore very inspiring to read the article mentioned above and realize you can still get so many great travel photography magazines delivered directly to your door, as opposed to your desktop.

Which one would you subscribe to, if the internet wasn’t keeping your eyes from the printed media prize?

Community Connection

What are your favorite print photo mags (or just mags with best photography)? Please let us know in the comments below.

All photos courtesy of Michael Lynch

Japan-based wildlife photographer Michael Lynch’s work has appeared in various publications such as Apogee Photo, Photo Argus, The Nihon Sun, International Business Times, and PocketCultures. Matador Editor and photographer Lola Akinmade talks with Michael about his creative process.

How long have you been a photographer?

I try to take professional photos and I love outshooting some of the folks who call themselves Pros; some of them ain’t so hard to beat, others are. At age 59, I bought my first camera and decided I wanted to really learn how to shoot.

What – or who – got your initial interest going in terms of photography?

The great outdoors has always been where I preferred to be. Growing up in the mountains of upstate New York, I was always out in the woods, somewhere. I could never figure out why people would sit around in the house watching TV when there were so many real live things to see outdoors.

Cameras, over the years, I’ve had a few. Seems like every film camera I had, I’d wind up breaking, losing, screwing-up the film, winding it, or shooting rolls of film and leaving them lying around so long before developing, there’d be no pictures left on them by the time I’d have them processed!

Then, along came digital (50 years later). One day, about three years ago, I was walking my dogs along the beach and saw an osprey flying overhead. I mean, way overhead, probably 500 yards straight-up, circling overhead. I didn’t even know what type bird it was; I just knew it was big.

I took out my cell phone and with the camera, zoomed and shot it. Got him dead center in the frame. A little black speck. That’s when I said, “I want a real camera”.

I emailed my son in California and asked him to help me research, bought some Outdoor Photographer magazines and a few books on cameras and started what would be about a six month decision process.

Then, I bought a Panasonic DMC-FZ50. Close to 160,000 shots on it and still shoots. I’ll never part with that camera; still use it. And highly recommend it to anyone starting out. When I bought that camera, I had no idea I wanted to be a wildlife photographer.

What were your first photographic experiments or experiences?

First (serious) photographic experiences where I wasn’t just snap-shooting were with my cell-phone camera.

I used the basic camera books I’d bought and started doing all the standard, basic stuff: directional lighting, bowls of fruit, rule of thirds, composition, flash, texture… whatever you can imagine that can be done with a real camera, while I continued to search for which model camera to buy.

How would you describe the work you do now…wildlife/nature photography? Are you involved in the commercial world also? Any stock photography?

The work I do now, WOW, it’s insane! I have three gallery exhibits; two of them I sell from. The third one is in a library, just for display. My work in the past year has changed drastically, ever since I got into online travel writing. Where I used to spend 6-10 hours a day out shooting wildlife and maybe six hours on a monitor, it’s kinda reversed.

I initially joined Matador hoping to find writers to do the writing and use my photography for their articles. Here in Okinawa, I’ve been published in print magazines, just my photography, with someone else doing the writing. A cameraman in Japan gets paid a lot, a lot more than writers. I used to make a deal with writers, “You write and I’ll shoot and we’ll split 50/50 on any articles you have published”.

That worked great for awhile, ’till the economy went south and magazines cut back on their spending. Writers got busy doing their other full-time jobs and less writing so, I decided to give writing a try myself. In March 2009, Apogee Photo Magazine published my first article and I’ve been at it ever since, making just a little over what it takes to recharge my camera batteries!

Stock agencies find me through my website and contact me but I’m not interested in their contracts right now. Maybe somewhere down the line, like if I can’t walk anymore. Commercial work-I’m looking forward to breaking into the tourism/travel promotion agencies in Japan, but it may be difficult, being a foreigner.

What three tips would you share for amateur photographers who are interested in pursuing your style of photography?

1. Wake up early in the morning. You have to be wherever you’re going before the sun is up. The best light is early morning light and you want to be in position when the animals wake up and start looking for breakfast.

2. Know your ISOs. Be able to look outdoors and say, “It’s ISO 100, 400, 800 or 1600 out there, right now”. Before you step out the door, check the ISO settings on your camera, ALWAYS. There’s nothing worse than finding out the reason you just shot a burst of shots at a millionth of second is because you were shooting at ISO 1600 the night before and forgot to switch back to ISO 100.

3. Shoot a lot and study your EXIF data as you process each shot. Ask yourself, “What could I have done to make that shot better?”. Eventually, if you’ve mastered the basics, you will make better shots, or at least learn to experiment with different angles and settings while you’re out in the field.

What got you interested in wildlife photography?

Besides loving the outdoors, that first camera, the Panasonic, taught me I could shoot in burst mode. This was something I could never do before with any film camera, not fast enough to catch birds in flight, anyway. Not just birds, but, fish jumping out of water, birds catching fish, snakes striking out, geckos catching moths, bees buzzing flowers, you name it; I got hooked.

Which other photographers – old or contemporary – inspire you most?

Ansel Adams, the master of light and shadows, has to be every serious photographer’s idol. Contemporary, I’ll have to get back with you on that; there’s an Irish wildlife photographer I saw in Outdoor Photographer who has pretty much the same philosophy as me, “I don’t Photoshop.” Have to dig through an old stack of magazines to get his name.

When you are approaching subjects to shoot, how do you set about it? Do you chat and explain what you’re doing? Or shoot first, ask questions later?

Another reason I love wildlife; you don’t need a model release! I carry a stack of release forms in all my camera bags for the times I’m shooting people. Approaching before or after depends on the situation, especially in Japan. Young Japanese will giggle and whip out the peace-sign when they pose for a photo. I’d rather catch them not acting silly, so sometimes shoot with a zoom and, if I plan on using the photo where a release is required, will ask later.

Whenever I get a release signed, I either email the photo or print a copy for the model, then scan the release and file it with the photo.

What’s the craziest or most inspiring encounter you’ve had in general?

This one’s the easiest question of them all. On the 1st of November 2009 I had just gotten escorted off the street by security for jumping up on a two step ladder and shooting, with camera flash, the Queen on the International Avenue during an annual reenactment of a coronation ceremony.

I guess I was supposed to be a little embarrassed, so I made believe I was and walked sheepishly towards the next street corner to get ready to start shooting again. As I stood there waiting for the parade to start moving towards me so I could shoot with a zoom lens, some local guy kept staring at me. I look at him like, “What are you staring at” and he lowers his eyes a bit, but keeps looking towards me.

So, I figure he’s just a camera fanatic (He’s got a Canon) and he maybe is trying to see what kind of camera I’m using. I approach him and he says, “Are you Mike, Ryukyu Mike?” So, I say “Yeah, where do you know me from?“, because I had no clue who this guy was; never seen him before in my life.

And I’m pretty bad at remembering names, but never forget a face. He just looked like an Okinawan camera man, watching a parade. He says, “I’m Myron, from Hawaii. I thought you looked like Ryukyu Mike. I know you from Flickr”.

Then, I said, “Wait a minute. My picture isn’t on my Flickr profile; I have a bird picture there, a Kingfisher so, how the hell do you know me”? Then he tells me maybe it’s from my website or somewhere else because he follows me all over the web.

Now, that’s the craziest and most inspiring thing that ever happened to me all rolled-up in one!

What kit do you use / carry with you / can’t do without (camera make, lenses, flashguns etc.)?

By far, the most used camera bag I have, is a shoulder holster. It holds my Pentax K10D with a Pentax 18-250mm, extra SD cards, batteries, cleaning gear.

Second most used is an old military Alice Pack: holds everything Pentax K10D, Panasonic DMC-FZ50, 18-250mm, Sigma 50-500mm, Manfrotto 725B Tripod, food, clothes, water, you name it; three days’ supplies. Least used, but holds all my cameras and shooting gear, except tripod, is a Lowepro Shoulder bag.

That bag, I use if I’m shooting where I want everything handy but don’t plan on alot of walking with it. I don’t use an external flash but am in the market for one.

Finally, what else are you working on right now and what are your ambitions for the future in terms of your photography work?

Last year, I hit digital print in around a dozen places and I plan to continue that, but this year, I’ll be looking for some print magazines before they all go bankrupt. I had a big exhibit going this March that has potential for getting my prints in some upscale galleries down in the big cities.

Putting my work online has started gaining my photography some recognition and, finally, I have some real writers collaborating with me. I’ll just keep plugging away until I reach the ultimate goal of every wildlife photographer, National Geographic.

Community Connection

Please read our other recent interviews with Travel Photographers.

THIS PICTURE epitomizes Haiti for me. This boy had just ran nearly a mile to keep up with our van in the stop-and-go traffic clogging the exits of Port Au Prince.

The van was headed West through what you might consider a suburb, Muriani, not the best neighborhood. This boy had ran along side our bus because one of our Haitian handlers had given him a pack of Pringles.

Instantly happy, his smile was the first I’d seen in Haiti. And he refused to let it go. Every antic he could fashion for us while still keeping up with the bus he proudly showed off: striking poses of every style, modeling, jumping, laughing, waving his only bill promptly dug out of his pocket.

This boy was blissful and enjoying the attention. I was mesmerized by him. There were more pictures at the end of my trip of this single, ecstatic boy than any other subject. But this picture above was the last I was able to shoot of him before our van turned and headed off.

As soon as I was home everyone asked what Haiti was like. I responded with a mixture of adulation, frustration, outright anger, and confusion. I had no real answer. I was incapable of conjuring the words necessary to express my experiences.

But this boy was, is, my teacher. His dusty knees and knuckles. The joy that radiated from his face. All around him, scattered trash, Haitians oblivious to their surroundings and a UN soldier attempting to direct traffic, Kalashnikov in hand, and he was flashing his white smile my way. He shared a moment of joy, a risk of happiness.

Community Connection

To learn more of the backstory of Jared’s trip, please read Matador member plans spring break volunteer project in Haiti.

For more perspectives from volunteers’ experiences, please read Segundo’s Notes from a Medical Volunteer.

Texas Panhandle. brykmantra/ / CC BY-SA 2.0

IT WAS WELL INTO THE UNMITIGATED SEAR OF JULY when they finally came upon the first settlements of Quivira.

They were seventy-seven days out from the embers of Tiguex, give or take a few, nine hundred and fifty leagues from the City of Mexico, somewhere in what is now central Kansas. They were probably less than a day’s ride from the site where four hundred and sixty-four years later a retired financial services magnate by the name of Steve Fossett would set off on the first non-stop solo circumnavigation of the globe by aircraft.

They’d been expecting big things. Their guide, whom they called the Turk, “because he looked like one,” but who was more likely an expatriate (or ex-slave) Wichita or Pawnee, had said, sometime during the long winter holdover on the Rio Grande, otherwise spent besieging a mud-walled village, shooting crossbows and arquebuses, dodging arrows, setting fire to dwellings and people and being snowed on, that not so many days’ march to the east:

there was a river in the level country which was two leagues wide, in which there were fishes as big as horses, and large numbers of very big canoes, with more than twenty rowers on a side, and that they carried sails, and that their lords sat on the poop under awnings, and on the prow they had a great golden eagle. He said also that the lord of that country took his afternoon nap under a great tree on which were hung a great number of little gold bells, which put him to sleep as they swung in the air. He said also that everyone had his ordinary dishes made of wrought plate, and the jugs and bowls were of gold.

Which sounded pretty goddamn good. Worth checking out, anyway.

Francisco Vázquez de Coronado y Luján had left his native Spain for Mexico at age 25, there to be named governor and judge of the Kingdom of New Galicia. At 30, on the strength of what seemed like credible, if second-hand, reports of the seven great cities of Cíbola, wherein “there is much gold,” and where “the natives maintain a commerce in jars made from it, and in jewelry for their ears and spatulas with which they scrape themselves and remove their sweat,” he set off to the north with 1400 men, 1500 animals, arms, hard tack, wheat, oil, vinegar and “medicines.”

Cíbola, which turned out to be a collection of rather modest Zuni pueblos, the primary wealth of which, at the time, could be measured in pine nuts and functional pottery, was a bust. And so it’d been good news indeed, after a year on the trail and nothing yet happened upon, material or otherwise, to even begin to justify the extraordinary investment that had been made in the expedition, to hear of this place Quivira.

Coronado Sets Out to the North, Frederic Remington

Coronado followed the Turk nearly 800 miles across the Staked Plains (el llano estacado), across the sky-pressed panhandles of Texas and Oklahoma — across country, as Coronado described it, “with no more landmarks than if we had been swallowed up by the sea… not a stone, nor bit of rising ground, nor a tree, nor a shrub, nor anything to go by.”

It was one man’s duty to count steps as they marched, and to have them written down by a scribe, such that those same steps could eventually be retraced. They marked their way with piles of bison dung. At night they built great bonfires of the same stuff, shot off their guns, sounded trumpets and beat drums in order that those who had been lost during the day might find their way back to the group.

(On the return trip, a new guide would teach them a greatly improved method of navigation: that of shooting an arrow in the direction of travel, then, before reaching the place where it had stuck, shooting another — and so on throughout the day.)

They survived on bison meat smoked over bison dung. They cowered under hailstones “large as small bowls and larger” that dented helmets, shattered water gourds and injured horses. They drank mud, when they could find it.

Eventually they came to the Arkansas, where they saw their first native Quivirans, eaters of raw meat, clad, if at all, in buffalo skins — “as uncivilized as any I have seen and passed until now,” Coronado would write in his letter to the King. They swam their mounts across the silt, and so entered the fabled province. Nearly a week later they came upon the first assemblage of thatched huts along the banks of the Kansas River.

The men were tall, the women well-proportioned (with “faces more like Moorish women than Indians”). The dwellings seemed a slight improvement on the rustic, animal-skin teepees employed by the other Plains people they had seen. But there were no horse-sized fish, no grand sailing canoes, no gold bells swinging in the breeze.

“Immense Plains, where the bisons feed,” de Humboldt, 1804.

For twenty-five days they rode the length and breadth of the province. They found neither gold, nor silver, “nor any news of such.”

The Turk, under who knows what duress, admitted having made the whole thing up. In part, he said, because the Puebloans back on the Rio Grande had begged him to get the Spaniards lost — hopefully forever. And also because he’d wanted to get back home.

And so, not far from his home, those stinking, bearded men from another continent treated him to what was then the most up-to-date, most fashionable method of execution, the garrote.

One of the Quivira leaders wore a piece of copper hanging from his neck. It’d likely been mined and fashioned in Mexico. Coronado took this, or was given it, and also some small copper bells, to send along to the viceroy of New Spain as evidence of the only metal they’d seen in those parts.

And then, in anticipation of the coming monsoons, and the snows thereafter, and thereafter bankruptcy, divestiture of title, and death, and eventually, over time, the evolution of ever more complex financial instruments and man’s first solo unsupported flight around the globe (in 67 hours, 1 minute and 10 seconds, at an average 342.2 miles per hour), he turned his crew around and headed — one arrow at a time — in the direction of the Rio Grande.

All pics by Tom Gates.

I’M NOT MUCH FOR handholding. Or extended hugging. Or for feeling vulnerable. Ask the ex’s. They’ll tell you what caused them to kick me to the curb – my ridiculous independence and need to hold onto it, even in moments when I’m not supposed to be holding it all together.

This moment, though, finds me somewhere on the border of drama and melodrama. It’s a state of being that I can only call ‘away-sickness’, a term I’ve adopted for when I feel the pull to leave home and can’t. Most people want their down comforter and indoor plumbing – I crave a straw bed and a boxed hole in the ground.

I moved to Los Angeles three months ago, following a year of worldwide wandering, during which I lived in twelve countries over twelve months. The idea of the trip was to embrace the concept of slow travel on a level that many haven’t – going places and then planting my fanny for thirty days. What I didn’t expect is that this would leave me homesick for twelve countries, all of which adapted and adopted me.

The cracks in my everything’s fine persona showed themselves in February, when I purchased a 44 ounce bottle of Heinz Ketchup.

I looked down and realized that this wasn’t a pit stop on my trip, that I was buying at least fifty burgers’ worth of red stuff, and that even my disgusting eating habits couldn’t substantiate that much condiment craving for less than three months. I lived here.

I tried to fill the hole. I went on $14.00 trips to the salad bar at Whole Foods. I decided that I ‘needed’ to play Ghostbusters on an Xbox and lost a dozen hours attempting to annihilate the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man. While drinking.

I made out with guys I hardly knew. I played dumb Snow Patrol songs that made me feel weak and great Nada Surf songs made me feel the inverse of brave. I went emo on a Secret level, buying a big cork board and hanging reminders of my trip – a punched train ticket, a pack of dice from a German toy store, the Metallica ticket from Argentina, my Lothian bus pass.

I hit post-travel bottom after getting close and personal with a bottle of Malbec, doing what everyone does after downing a whole bottle of vino: I posted a pitiful song lyric on Facebook.

Immediately my friend (a jedi in world travel) called me. He knew what a twit I was being and wanted to spare me of my cached woe.

“What’s the matter?”

“I can’t explain.”

“It’s OK. You won’t ever be able to. Just stop posting stupid shit. You look like an idiot.”

“OK’.”

We started talking about how much I hated a rooster that hid under my hut in Malaysia, and how most mornings I wanted it dead in time for breakfast, on account of its need to begin cock-a-doodling just after I’d entered a perfectly buzzed sleep (you can get bootleg beer even in Taman Negara Park if you know the right people). I was trying to figure out how I’d become so nostalgic about something that bothered me so much at the time, and why it was something so inane that I kept coming back to.

Other things flushed from my brain. Like Neri, a student from a small town in Italy. He was assigned to my ESL classroom for month of “camp” that even the stupidest student realized was really school that involved monotonous songs and construction paper. To say that Neri tortured me would be an understatement – spitballs from straws, soccer balls tossed across the classroom and tantrums about any kind of accountability for these things.

His grandfather came to the school after the woman running the program finally realized that I couldn’t control this pinball child. The grandfather’s answer was swift and simple: He beat the tar out of the boy in the school courtyard while we all watched. The next morning Neri showed up with translated English sharpie’d on his palm and offered dutiful apology with tears and sincerity. One day later, he was flipping over desks and dumping paint on the ground.

I am sure that Neri is being rapped in the head right now for some poor behavior and that he has come to expect this treatment. I think about what would have happened if I had stayed in the small town in Tuscany. Could I have broken the cycle? Could I have helped him? Did I abandon a cause that was supposed to be one of my life’s biggest challenges? Or is this child simply an asshole?

And now I’m here, in the perfectly painted room with the washing machine humming, the pool outside, lit with underwater lamps and the smell of flawlessly maintained flowers wafting into my window. I have a great job and am surrounded by great people. Yet I question.

Last weekend I went to a workshop about how to connect with ‘kindred spirits’ and build community. As much as I was enamored by most of the other people in the room, I didn’t feel like they were my lot. How could I be surrounded with such evolved, cool people and not feel a connection with them?

It hit me on the second day. My kindred spirits are travelers.

It scares the hell out of me that I don’t know how to connect with my people unless I’m at a guesthouse in Laos or climbing a mountain in Chile. I don’t know why making a thrifty dinner with three new friends in Queenstown is more exciting than sitting down at a fancy restaurant in Beverly Hills. I don’t know why I need to meet people that I’ll never see again and why the time I spend with them is more powerful than many of my lifelong relationships.

Last night I tried like hell not to look at the photos from my trip.

I hadn’t given them a solid look since I’ve been back. But like anything, the more I told myself not to, the more I needed to see them.

If you’re a traveler, you get this. They made me feel everything at once. I felt sad, thrilled, joyous, festive, embarrassed, empowered, weak, lonely, powerful, doomed and unstoppable all at one time.

One other thing I keep coming back to is a Talking Heads song. One minute and fifty one seconds into “Once In A Lifetime” David Byrne declares that there is water at the bottom of the ocean. Just like that. “There is water at the bottom of the ocean.”

I keep thinking about how last year I found out that there is, indeed, water at the bottom of the ocean, and that you need only travel to find it. It’s one thing to logically process that there are amazing things in amazing places. It’s another to gape at them from two yards away.

This is the high I will chase as long as I live. I will do my best to remain in light.

Photo: Stu Willis

FINDING THE CONFIDENCE to approach strangers for their story, their photo or permission to film can be a challenge.

There are many emotional and mental stumbling blocks that can prohibit you from approaching strangers for your travel media.

You may not want to be rejected or bother anyone. You may not want to interfere or draw attention to yourself. Perhaps you are questioning your ability to assert anything meaningful.

These are some of the foibles I may encounter when creating media that involves interacting with other people on camera. But they can be the same fears that are associated with shooting photography or gathering a story.

I had to face some of these feelings of uncertainty head on while filming this video for MatadorTV.

Some tips to help overcome fears of approaching people

THE APPROACH

Have a pitch. Know what you are doing, what you hope to achieve and how. Practice explaining it out loud a few times before you talk to any strangers.

If you want to film, photograph, or interview someone and are not feeling particularly confident, my advice is to approach everyone and do it with as little deliberation as possible. That’s not to say don’t know what you are going to ask this person. Rather, don’t give yourself time to get in your head and let the moment slip. The more you randomly stop strangers and the easier it will become until you can’t be phased.

Sometimes I am feeling sheepish and that is when I know I need to jump in feet first. What is the worst someone is going to do? Walk away and leave you alone? That isn’t all that bad.

I will stand and either wait for someone to see me – ‘Excuse me, can you help me with my video?’

Or approach everyone person that passes – ‘Can you help me with my travel vlog?’

DON’T BE ASHAMED

Don’t be ashamed or apologetic for your project or craft. Don’t apologize for stopping someone or for taking their time.Instead, thank them. Don’t denigrate your project or creative process; praise it and get people excited about what you are doing.

Your article, video or photography is something to be proud of and thinking this way can allow you to feel more confident approaching your subjects.

I think people want to believe you are an amazing artist or are working on a compelling project. Move with courage and grace and you will be given the benefit of the doubt. Everyone knows it takes a certain gravitas to interact with strangers in pursuit of a creative endeavor, I think you will find people to be overwhelmingly supportive.

YOU’RE IN CHARGE

People are good at following orders.Once you have your participants in your sway you are in charge; step off the curb, into the light, hold this mic, you’re doing great. One more time, a little louder this time, don’t be afraid to smile…thank you very much.

Know what you want from people and let them know as confidently and succinctly as possible.

“ I am going to ask you one simple question, whatever comes to your mind, no matter what it is, is OK. Are you ready for the question?”

or

“I am really interested in what you are doing. Do you mind giving me a little explanation on camera?”

Once they agree to participate they will be looking to you to help them give you what you need.

LET IT BE

People are compelling. The way folks think and act across individual and cultural lines is the stuff of endless tales… don’t think you can ever improve upon the perfect synchronicity of life. Sure, you can try and point it in the right directions, but at the end of the day, heart breaking truth and profound joy or subtle courage comes with perfect grace from nature and the nature of humans.

Let people be themselves. Praise and celebrate their individuality and they will perhaps open up and share some of themselves with you and your art.

THE FEAR OF EXISTING

As strange as it sounds, many people are afraid of their own existence. Documenting a person’s existence through film or photography plays to that fear. Many people fear that they will not like how they look, sound, act and respond on camera. They don’t want that mirror held up.

I think the easiest way to dispel the this fear in others is to give them permission to be exactly how they are. You must make sure they know you are coming from a place of non-judgment. Tell them that how they look and sound are perfect, and assure them that you will not make them look stupid on camera.

Easier blogged than done, I know. But in order to get more confident approaching potential subjects you have to practice! So get out their and start today!

COMMUNITY CONNECTION

Photo by Robert Hirschfield.

WHEN THE WIND MOVES through the Bodhi tree at Bodh Gaya, more than the leaves move. Pilgrims sitting in contemplation beneath the tree chase after the leaves like mad hens.

Sometimes monks will watch them and smile. Sometimes, sheepishly, they will join in.

I am against participating in mad dashes. My anti-social side is too well-developed. Once, riding the Number 2 train in Manhattan, two men engrossed in a gunfight, stormed into my car. Everyone exited, screaming and tumbling. Only I remained, clutching my copy of The Brothers Karamazov, putting privacy (relative as that was) over safety.

I had always wanted to visit Bodh Gaya and see the tree, where many centuries ago, a man got it straight about suffering. A shrine without a blood component.

The first time I saw the tree I fell in with a cluster of Sri Lankan women, all in white, like a delegation of swans.

Seeing it inside its protective gapped fence (I imagined it unenclosed, unlimited, like the mind of the Buddha), I felt deep inside me the immense marching feet of tears saved over time for just this moment. Not so much tears of devotion, I think, as tears of recognition. Recognition of my ignorance.

Gingerly, I seated myself beside the burgundy-robed Tibetans, beside the tangerine-robed Thai monks. I am sure they are all clairvoyant and can see they have an impostor in their midst.

I search for my first mindful breath of the day. It’s here somewhere. I know it is.

I KNOW I WAS when I bought my brand new 3GS last year. No zoom, no flash, no in camera editing options…great for fun snappy snaps but not much use for anything more ambitious.

Then I started to explore the apps a little, and was very happy to find a bunch dedicated to improving the phone’s native camera. I tried out as many as I could – replacement cameras editing tools, fun, novelty stuff…suddenly taking photos with the iPhone became a lot more fun.

While these tools won’t necessarily make you into a pro photographer, they can help you learn a little about how photography works and get you started on improving your composition, becoming aware of lighting and framing and other useful aspects of photography.

Below is a round up of the apps I’ve found most useful so far.

1. Replacement Cameras

2. Image Editing

3. Filters and Effects

4. For Professional Photographers

Community Connection

This is not comprehensive by any means, and new apps are appearing all the time, so please feel free to tell us your favorites in the comments below.