Chinatown in B&W

To appreciate the energy that comes from the multicultural milieu that defines this city, one has to get out and walk around. Take it all in; in every way. Hear it, feel it, smell it, taste it. You can't just look from the comfort of a rolled up car window. There's too much to experience. So much is missed when keeping to the obvious tourist areas. Visit them, yes. They're worthy. But don't pass up the neighborhoods. The vibrant streets.

Shooting Washington, DC's street life can get under one's skin. Impossible to not get excited rushing to grab that next shot. You see something unfolding up ahead and just have to get there before the scene falls apart. Anticipating. Keeping your head on a swivel. There's a photograph here somewhere! Looking and looking and looking. 

Today it was Chinatown. Who knows where tomorrow (or the next day) will take us? 

More to come.

The City At Night

Washington, DC. Beautiful city. Especially at night.

If you've never had the opportunity to walk around the Tidal Basin at sunset or take an evening stroll down the tree-lined paths of the National Mall, you are missing quite a lot.

In the coming weeks I plan to piece together some scraps of this little burg on the Potomac; try to layout on this lightbox-as-a-blog a collection of images worthy of this fine city.

For now, just a couple from my wanderings the other night.

Tourists photographing the Washington Monument.

Washington Monument at dusk. Washington, DC.

Exploring

Youth and curiosity travel together. The trick is keeping them on the same trail as you age.

The West

The urge to travel. Insidious, relentless urge. Impossible to suppress once it surfaces. I first experienced this desire in my early teens. (Early teens seem to be a ripe time for many strong first desires... But that's another story!)  Images of snow-capped jagged mountain peaks, wide open spaces, deserts and grassy plains stirred the great roaming beast. Coffee table books with glossy color photographs and magazines with stories about the Continental Divide, Death Valley, The Great Plains, big sky country, and massive, thundering herds of buffalo. The West.

There's no horizon on the east coast. It's all great buildings, dense forests and rolling hills. For a boy living in Maryland, that long flat distant horizon meeting an unbroken sky was a foreign concept.

One day, I came across a copy of On The Road.19 years old, no life direction and now stoked by Kerouac's depictions of new wild places and of people "mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..."

Not long after, I looked up an auto delivery company in the Yellow Pages (remember them?) and asked if they had any cars going to the west coast. It did not matter where. I wanted--needed--to see the sun set on the Pacific Ocean by week's end! With little more than 500 dollars in my pocket, an old Nikon F2, and a single green canvas rucksack stuffed with underwear, t-shirts and jeans, I was off. I stayed in youth hostels and crappy roadside motels. Ate fast food and drank gallons of coffee. Harsh, bitter, burnt coffee from diners and mini-marts... not the gourmet fresh roasted beans you can pretty much find anywhere today. It was great.

I made the trip 6 more times after that. And then that was enough. Sitting for hours at a time behind the steering wheel watching the yellow stripes zip by eventually lost its appeal. The love of the West still burns, though. So I get out there when I can. It's not often enough, of course... but I know it's there, and that is comforting.

 “Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.” – Jack Kerouac

Gotta go!

Elk. Two views.

When next you find yourself in that great Wyoming valley known as Jackson Hole, be sure to make your way up to Teton National Park near Jenny Lake. We photographed this proud bull elk as he escorted his harem (just outside the frame) across a snow blanketed field, his amorous bugling piercing the early morning quiet.

Then, later in the evening when you find yourself in the town of Jackson, dying of hunger, be sure to drop in to Trio (an amazing restaurant!) for a tasty elk dinner.

Cheers!

On The Road... again!

Headed west.

If you've been watching the new Ken Burns documentary on PBS, among other places you probably saw Grand Teton NP, which was created by an act of congress in 1929. Just last night they showed how the greater Jackson Hole area came to be a part of that existing park in 1950. This caused more than a little stir with some of the locals at the time, but ultimately--thankfully--it became one of the most spectacular settings for every flavor of traveler, photographer, adventurer and artist.

Many new and groovy images to come! (Well... in a week or so.)

Until then, peace.

What a Groovy Idea!

Sell the house, buy a camper, travel the country... then settle in a new place. Sounds great!

No, no, no. I'm not going anywhere! But when my friend Amy Marquis and her husband Tom take off later this year I'll be going along... via the web.

If you happen to run into her in Colorado or California or Washington or Wyoming... say hello for me. Oh! and tell her I said she'd buy you a beer! (heh-heh.)

We lucky few who get some 7 or 8 decades on this fine planet should always take care to spend them well. Take chances, live fully.

Hope it all comes together, Amy.

Cheers.

On The Road.

I read Kerouac's seminal book in my late teens. It had its effect. Free flowing, free-form prose about his travels across the United States. Driving, walking, riding the rails, sometimes hitchhiking his way through a nation full of hope, dreams, sex, dope, poetry, jazz, craziness. I myself made that trip to the Pacific and back again to the Atlantic a number of times after that. A little bit of doe, a medium-sized backpack, a handful of underwear and a camera was all I required.

Famed National Geographic photographer, Chris Johns has been quoted as saying, "Photography is one of the greatest pleasures of travel, and travel is one of the greatest pleasures of life." Somehow, somewhere along the way I was consumed with that spirit. It has not lessened a bit these last twenty-five years or so.

Tomorrow my beloved and I head out for--actually, return to--a place of genuine grandeur. Uniquely explore-able and eminently photographable. The great southwest!

This shot is from a long ago trip to Arizona. Those are the Vermillion Cliffs along route 89 headed towards the north rim of the Grand Canyon. Among your life list of things to do before you die... this should be one of them!

We'll be in a different but no less impressive part of that fine state this time around. Everyone stay well while we're away. Oh, and unlike Paris, I won't be live blogging from there. Pics when we return!

Cheers.