Photographers Have a Right to Be Subpar on the Way to Producing Art

When it comes to photographic competency, is it possible to be both accomplished and stink at the same time? I’d argue yes on both accounts. I find that people tend to generalize about what it […]

Laissez les bons temps cliquer

Let the good times click—one photographer’s journey back to New Orleans.

Top Reasons Why We Hate Crowded Photography Tripod Holes!

Here is a humorous look at the top idiots we often encounter at crowded tripod holes!

Horror at Henfield

In the decades that followed, it was rumored that Mingo, West Virginia was harboring an evil supernatural presence, most likely the result of the town’s macabre history…

Is Street Photography of Children Ever OK?

When it comes to street photography, is it ever OK to take pictures of children without parental permission?…

“Hearing the Light” – The Deep Connection between Photography and Music

The connection between photography and music has always fascinated me. Like many, I was deeply exposed to music growing up. As a child, I learned how to play the piano by ear, often reconstructing complex melodies in my head…

Using “Sense of Place” to Build Stronger Photographic Images

“If all your life means to you is water running over rocks, then photograph it, but I want to create something that would not have existed without me.” ~Minor White…

The Apathetic Photographer

At some point in our photographic lives, we all experience apathy. This demotivating condition can best be described as a state of indifference; the suppression of emotions such as concern, excitement, motivation or passion. Like any other psychological ailment, photographic apathy manifests itself in varying degrees of severity…

Missouri Photo Workshop – An Experience That Lasts a Lifetime

I was sitting on Fritz’s couch when his daughter Sue asked me squarely, “Why do you want to do a story about my Dad?” I told her, “If I don’t do it, then who will?”…

Living the Cowboy Life – A Night at the Rodeo

The cowboy vigorously runs his wire brush across the leather tail of his thickly braided bull rope—a small halo of dirt disperses into the late afternoon sun. He breaks apart a tiny chunk of amber rosin on the metal bars of the bucking chute before placing some into the palm of his leather riding glove…