Stories
Photos with narrative
January 29, 2025
The winds shift, but the sand remains. The dust rises, but the road stays firm. The heat presses down, but the city moves, steady and unbothered.
The morning sun burns low, stretching long shadows across the land. But the war is there. The war is always there.
In Ukraine and Gaza, the fields are torn, the cities hollowed. A wrong move, a false step, and ‘the line’ is re-drawn and re-crossed. The arsenals swell with nationalism as the safeguards lose relevance. The machines do not rest. The gears turn, the engines compress, the satellites drift in silent orbits. A drone watches, unseen. Somewhere, an algorithm decides.
And yet, as I stand on my terrace, there is no war in front of me. The streets nearby are calm. The morning light catches the edges of buildings, indifferent to the world’s apparent unraveling.
The forests burn, but the trees outside my window stand tall, their roots tended by hands that will never live beneath their shade. The storms come, the winds howl with fire, the rivers swallow. The sea is rising, but the tide is slow.
And yet, the world holds its shape. As I drive to work, the road is dry. The traffic hums forward, relentless, and imperfectly precise. The sky is still. The wind kicks up dust in the distance, but it does not reach me. The city moves. The lights change.
The war is not in front of me. The fires are not in front of me. The suffering is not in front of me. The machine is not in front of me.
The current is steady, pulling forward. It does not stop. It does not ask. It carries us where it will.
I do not see it, but I feel it. What is there to change that is not in front of me?
September 8, 2016
After spending some time on Colombia’s mainland, I decided to follow my father’s footsteps and travel to the Colombian islands of San Andrés and Providencia.
Modern day San Andrés did not live up to my expectations from his fond descriptions. It had become incredibly congested and overbuilt. Two days of exploring the island by scooter was enough.
From there, I took a Beech 1900D flight to the island of Providencia. This remains one of the most memorable flights of my life – flying through the clouds only 4,000 feet above the water. The clouds were yellowed by the sun, vibrant, puffy, and tall. As we made our approach to the small airport in Providencia, raindrops began to streak past my window. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, a giant green-covered mountain appeared through the clouds. Looking through the flight deck window, I see the runway. My love for the island of Providencia was immediately kindled.
After a few days there, I decided to take a kayak to the tiny island of Cayo Cangrejo (Crab Key). The kayak out was dry, but once I arrived, the summer rains started to roll in across the island and I had to capture them.
I was the only person on Cayo Cangrejo, and for that moment in time, lived on my own private island.
September 9, 2018
Friends Stefan, Tony and I were nearing the end of our ~80km Torres del Paine circuit in Chile, hiking from Paine Grande to Refugio Grey. The plan was to take a ferry to Hotel Lago Grey – our one splurge – where we could enjoy some creature comforts, especially a hot shower to peel off the dirt.
At Refugio Grey, we learned that the lake levels were too low for the ferry to cross. We hastily formulated Plan B: Stay overnight, wake up at 4am, hike ~11km back to Paine Grande, and catch a different ferry to get to the hotel.
All went well until we reached the unmanned “port” station at Gardería Pudeto and learned regular service had not started yet. Given that September is the first month the park opens, normal operations were not underway. Busses came and went, but were mostly private transports or a public bus towards the main town in the opposite direction.
Ready to call the trip, we boarded a bus to Puerto Natales, telling the driver why we were boarding his bus. As he pulled away, the driver suddenly stopped and jumped off to wave down a friend, who could drive us to the hotel. We grabbed our packs, thanked the driver and jumped into this guy’s van.
This photo was taken en route to the hotel we thought we’d never get to.
July 30, 2021
During a midsummer, 10-hour road trip along the US eastern seaboard, beams of light in the sky above caught my attention while driving through Delaware. I couldn’t resist pulling off to watch the soothing beams breaking through the clouds as well as a dozen or more turkey vultures happily surfing the thermals.
July 2021 - Dreamers Welcome, Wilmington NC.
September 2020 - After a long day aimlessly along the Downeast coast of Maine, Caroline and I stopped at Helen’s Restaurant in Machias for a late lunch outside. I settled on a cold lobster roll with fries, and Caroline chose the fried chicken sandwich. Going inside after the delicious lunch, I noticed home-baked pies behind the counter. “Today is a pie day!” I said to myself, quickly ordering one fresh raspberry with whipped cream as high as the filling and one wild Maine blueberry before I could talk myself out of it.We perched on some coastal rocks nearby at Roque Bluffs, enjoying our pie and an intense orange sunset. Hard to say which we liked more.
April 2018 - It was a late afternoon in Portland, Maine. I had taken a stroll around the East End promenade and came across the most beautiful blossoms. Listening to an audiobook discussing the simplicity of being present, I found a way to capture the essence of what I was listening to. 
January 2018 - It was a brisk winter day in Portland, Maine. I was well overdue for an adventure. Leaving the warmth of my home, I spent the day driving the Maine coast, to Popham Beach, Reid State Park, and stops in between. After a full day of coastal exploration, I returned home and decided to catch the sunset at Portland’s Fort Sumner Park.Upon arriving, I noticed this couple sitting on a bench, admiring the beauty of the sunset. After taking this photo, I sat near them to admire the sunset myself. While there, I couldn’t resist going through the photos I had just taken and thought this one of them in silhouette against the sunset was particularly cool. I held up my camera and said, “This is you!”. At first, they thought I might be a photographer trying to hustle them to buy an image I had taken. I smiled, told them I photograph for interest not money, and if they wanted a copy, I would be happy to give it to them. This is how I met Ernesto and Cristi, a great Costa Rican couple then living in Portland. We’ve remain good friends to this day.
April 2015 - My friend Lisa and I had just arrived on Milos, a small island in Greece. We decided to get a scooter to explore the island. After dropping our things at our Airbnb, we were on a budget and decided to rent a 50cc scooter. As we quickly learned, 50cc’s is not a lot of power, especially when there are two people on the scooter.Riding around the island, I noticed a cell tower at the top of a fairly large hill and a road winding up to it. I figured why not follow it, see where it goes, and maybe catch a great sunset. So off we went. The scooter did not have a good time going up this hill, but finally we made it. We found a place to park our exhausted scooter and navigated west and encountered this sunset view. What a wonderful find.