There’s a new camera in my bag of tools, toys and lightsabers – the Fuji X-Pro1.

A year ago I purchased a Fuji-X100 and I love that camera, still do. And occasionally I want to blast it to bits. I used it intensely in South America and it replaced my Canon 5D Mk II as my camera of choice, at least when working alone and walking streets. Simply because I usually had more fun with the Fuji, quirks, frustrations and limitations and all. In March this year, I had a chance to play with my mate Christian Fletcher‘s pre-production Fuji-Xpro1. Actually my first impression was mixed, in many ways it was awesome but it still had some of the X100 quirks and it also had its own quirks on top of that. But, like anything worth anything, you have to fight for it. The Fuji and I synchronized our quirks.

So I decided it was time for a change. My trusty old Canon gear, the 5D Mk II and all lenses, has served me well for many years but was simply no longer the camera I wanted to use. It was “getting in my way” as in, it annoyed me, heavy, big, obtrusive, loud, noticeable on the street, scared people away in South America, heavy, did I mention heavy, traveled around the world 3 times with this gear and just can’t do it anymore. I need a light weight “rangefinder” style kit for documentary work, that’ll fit in a small shoulder bag — I no longer need a landscape photographers kit that fills a big backpack. Sold all of my Canon gear, my 5D went to live with a fellow Danish nomad photographer, quite brilliantly, she travels on, adios amiga.

Money in my pocket, I rushed to my local pusher – Photografica – and bought my Fuji X-pro1 and the 18mm and 35mm lens, before the money went to boring things like food and lodging.

The production model Fuji X-pro1 is a nice improvement on the pre-prod model I tried, it appears to be a lot faster. The focus system might not be light speed but it’s extremely precise. And I am just really enjoying shooting with the Fuji X-pro1 and X100. RAW file support seems it will take a while as the Fuji X-Pro1 files are a pain to decode and Fuji has released no information about the sensor to developers. Presently only the included Silkypix can read the RAW files. Silkypix really makes one appreciate every other raw converter on the market, even Lightroom 4 feels fast. The in-camera jpegs are of very high quality, so it’s not a major issue for me, raw support will come.

Some major improvements on the X100 are a lot less shutterlag to the point of it not being noticeable for me. Much faster autofocus. Exposure compensation wheel is so annoying on the X100 but much better on the X-Pro1. The Q button is a nice feature. On the pre-prod model I kept accidentally hitting the Q button but I haven’t yet on my prod model. If you use the automatic metering it still (like the X100) overexposes (for my liking) by 1/2 to a full stop. I keep the EV at -2/3 at least. I have discovered some nice little tricks which I’ll cover in a later blog post.

Really love how I now have a small lightweight high quality kit, with amazing optical viewfinders making me feel very connected to the scene, with awesome image quality and spectacular lenses. The 35mm (50mm equivalent) at f/1.4 is brilliant, Lulu the dog below (a perfect model as far as staying still) is shot at f/1.4.

These are some of my first snapshots with the Fuji X-pro1, from processed in-camera jpegs. Not that it matters what camera was used, and the images are not much but as a test they confirmed that I made the right choice, having so much fun with this small lightweight black box. More to come.

“As long as I keep walking towards the mountain I will be alright”

— from Neil Gaiman’s incredibly inspirational keynote address.

So write and draw and build and play and dance and live as only you can.

There is no other path for me. This is it. It is madness for most, but it is what I want to do, have to do, must do, put here to do. Have to go and do it. Walk towards the mountain.

I will listen to Neil’s advice “Make your art. Do the stuff that only you can do. Make up your own rules.”

There is but one path for me. Towards the mountain. Mad and magic dreams, always.

Timeline: Namibia, 8 April 2009. My time machine splashed down in the dry desert climate at Windhoek airport. Vivid is the memory of standing on the hot dusty runway after exiting the plane and for some reason I started spinning, smiling at the huge sky. I basically kickstarted my life as a nomad time traveling photographer there and then. Broke out of my too-closed too-small little-hope life.

Timeline: Copenhagen, April 2012. 3 trips around the sun, 3 years have passed but time is relative. Feels like 3 years, feels like 30 years, feels like yesterday. When you live like a time traveling gypsy, living everywhere and nowhere, time is circular and often irrelevant. I lived a lifetime in these 3 years yet some days it seems that just a few days has gone by as no matter where I go, most things happened to me in other places.

Timeline: Copenhagen, Now. It is amazing to see family and old friends again and I have a feeling the future can be rather exciting. Interesting projects are brewing and my mind seems clearer, working, in good shape. Able to gaze hopefully into the future. And reflect on the past with fewer train crashes of the mind.

Three trips around the sun and I gained the world. Paid a prize for it, broke myself a little bit, but gained the world. I gained a worldwide network of brilliant friends, more than I could ever hope for. Had I an actual time and space machine I would visit you all every week. Visited some very interesting corners of the Earth and met interesting people. Evolved my photography by leaps and bounds and occasionally made an interesting picture. Learned a great deal about the world and an even greater deal about me.

Made lots of stupid choices. Lost some friends. Hurt some people. So sorry. Got broken. Healed. Regrets? Some. Wouldn’t change a thing goes the saying but it’s not true, there’s a few things I would really like to change. Cannot and am not supposed to. It is only a pretend-timemachine I have. And no regrets in taking off 3 years ago. Living on the road becomes an everyday life as well. It has nothing to do with a ‘trip’ or ‘holiday’. Often my life makes no sense and it bothers me. But it’s simply life and still just life, like our world, it is amazing and awful, funny and sad, highs and lows, good and bad choices. It is a strange, dark, mad life and world, so much beauty and so much despair. So much yet to see. So very addictive.

It is life but a lot more amplified living like this, volume on 11, intense compressed roller coaster ride of emotions and no base nor routine to stop you drowning on the bad days. Not sure I would ever recommend it to anyone. A side of me would rather curl up in a corner and hide forever. But another side throws the cap over the wall and says ‘no choice but to go get it now’. No base, stability, routine but then again, there is no ceiling and no limit on the good days. No strings, Gepetto.

Timeline: Future. I hope the future is soon. Hope I can will two projects to happen. “You opened Pandora’s Box” a dear friend said the other day. Yes, and there’s no closing it. “With all that you have seen, all you have done, there’s no going back. It would drive you insane. Tear you apart” — Doctor Who. Nor do I want to go back. Must make these projects work and my peculiar way of life work.

Inspired by the three trips around the sun, places I have been, people and have met — and very recently, NGO project managers I met in Argentina — I feel a burning desire to work for a humanitarian organization managing projects abroad, stationed around the world. Not content with just observing and documenting anymore I wish to attempt to help, use my skills to make a difference–for some people at least. My photography will continue with the same dedication slash obsession, working on personal projects and becoming a skilled documentary photographer. There is an exciting secret project with my friend Mark Stothard. And a trip to New Mexico coming up that I’m awfully excited about. With luck I will also find a small cheap place in Copenhagen to be a home, a base.

Gained the world and I feel it has only just started. Yes I trust the future is soon. And the next many trips around the sun are looking quite interesting. See you in the universe.

1st image by Amy Kawadler (gracias my friend–you nailed it!), Peru, 2011.
2nd image, self portrait, Broome, Australia, 2010.

But this lovely woman in the desert town of San Antonio de Los Cobres was different. She initially said no as she passed me. Expecting this, I just shrugged, smiled and sat down in the shade. You have to sit in the shade in San Antonio de Los Cobres. The sun in the desert at 3.8k altitude boils your skin. She takes an interest. This tall (I am about twice her height) weird alien is too strange to ignore, and she sits down next to me.

We talk. Well, she talks a lot. I answer in my basic Spanish. I like the way she laughs almost the same way I do. Her face tells the story of living in these extreme conditions. She’s lived here all her life she says. I look at her kind and warm eyes, skin cut like laser by the fierce sun and warm wind. It is very warm here today, her scarf and hat is protection. “Take my picture” she says, surprising me. I lean back so the blinding sun blows out the background. Her expression is perfectly her, the image a perfect memory of her. Wish I could remember her name.

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In mentioning names, I apologize should I forget a few: Very special mega thanks to my buddy in all things epic, True North Mark – and Lee-Anne. Jedi soul mate Charlene, see you in New Mexico my dear friend! Christian, Jen, always awesome and the Fletcher Resort rocks. Nigel, Helen, Peta, Greg & Maria, Jeanne & Ken, Dave, Andrea, Paul, Mark G, Greg T, Glenn, Steph, list goes on, I am so fortunate to know you all – cheers mates! Till next time, be well.
Hello Denmark, greetings Danish friends and family. A new adventure commences. May the force be with us all.

Street photography. Look it up in the dictionary and it could say: ‘See Henri Cartier-Bresson and his decisive moment. Also see under very hard’. It can be really frustrating, and really rewarding. “You need a great moment, and some great light, and then you need to actually be there at just the right time to capture it, and then you must create an interesting composition and image of all these elements. The changes of all of this happening at the same time, are very very small” — Said by, I believe, Doug Menuez and very true.

South America was for me, a trip to delve much deeper into and learn street- and documentary photography. Also the subject of the Photoexperience.Net workshop in Peru. For months I wandered the streets of towns in Argentina, Bolivia and Peru. Every day, hours and hours of walking and searching, searching for the light, the moment, the skill, the vision to have it make sense, make some great images of great moments. Sometimes (read: rarely) I would get up and walk the streets in the morning, but always I would walk the streets in the afternoon and evening shooting and failing, lots of learning by failing. Some days, here it is a market in Santa Cruz, Bolivia, I would have great light and shoot straight into beautiful soft afternoon light, diffused by clouds but still casting shadows, wishing, wanting for a great shot but mostly just getting the light and nothing else:

But where’s the moment, that moment of real-life worth capturing? Not interested in banalities, nor comic moments but some real life moments with meaning, be it sad, happy, absurd or scary, and a view into the life of others. So you shoot. Shooting hundreds of shots, sometimes several days without anything even remotely usable at all. Street and documentary photography demands this. Tests your patience (and I have little). It kicks your arse, tells you to go deeper, to find more meaning, give more of yourself, get over yourself, get in there, get closer, then get closer again. It seriously frustrated me many, many days and on top of that, most people in Argentina and Bolivia said no! to any type of shots and hid when they saw my camera. Most images were shot candidly and stealthily, like a thief on streets stealing moments and images. Not my favourite feeling. “Get over yourself, get in there, get closer, get images, find the image within the image” but many days I failed this. Then, in those once in a blue moon moments where everything comes together, it is an inspiring moment of great joy to have frozen a worthy moment in a worthy image. Again, Santa Cruz, Bolivia and one of my favourites from South America. A strange composition to many I am sure, but I like the three women, their expressions, the frozen moment, the zig zag of the light and shadow in the image:

Many things finally clicked in the workshop in Peru taught by Daniel Milnor and Adam Weintraub. Many weeks of frustration was rewarded when things suddenly made sense, technique and vision started coming together and the pieces of the puzzle in the street and layers in the street image all began to feel natural. Street photography is always hard, supposed to be hard, will continue to kick and trip me, but feeling inspired and enlightened by months of practice and then the workshop I shall keep walking, keep searching, keep shooting. Get over myself, get closer, get deeper, realise that great images takes a lot of work and happens very rarely.

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While not my favourite photo story from Peru, it is possibly my favourite ‘assignment’. A good and fun challenge to produce a story at this location, I am not that excited by ruins so without the assignment I possibly would not have shot much. With the photo story assignment in mind, the location became quite exciting and I stalked all the tourists up and down to get shots. It is a great way to work, create mini stories every place you go, I find that it really helps me to have that mindset, creating picture packages. Dan has written more about picture packages on his blog.

Some of the photos are interesting failures, ie I do not know what happened to my focusing in image 1. Some of them I quite like, image 8 is one of my favourite images from Peru, showcasing the Inca ruins versus surreal modern day Peru where souvenirs are sold by women in traditional dresses. How well the picture package works as a whole? Have not been ‘paid’ nor ‘fired’ yet, so possibly the jury is still out as we ran out of time (we were busy with important things like consuming pisco) to do group review four where I would have presented my story — Spaceship landing site at inca ruins of Moray.

Prints, prints, glorious prints. Presently fifteen 6×8 prints and 185 much smaller prints, all from my Peru work, grace the floor of the boat. Attempting to produce an edit that will be my submission for exhibiting at the Copenhagen Photo Festival in June. Some of the exhibitions last year impressed me much, and I have decided to submit an application.

It has been almost 3 years. 3 years since I took off for Namibia in April 2009, starting my current life as a time traveling photographer gypsy. It seems like 30 years in some ways although I naturally remember take-off as it was yesterday. Everything seems like yesterday. Everything seems like a long, long time ago. So many memories. When I return to Copenhagen I shall look for a new home and a job. A rooted existence – for a while anyway.

The Copenhagen Photo Festival then, is perfect timing for my first exhibition in Copenhagen. This has me rather excited. It would mean a tremendous lot to me to exhibit in my home city. Showing friends and family and everyone a small taste of my work, my travels, my life on the road. Not feeling the need to explain or justify, but feeling the need to share, yes it would have enormous personal meaning for me.

In the words of Tim Winton, because his words are much better than mine -

“…to be remembered as someone who did something completely pointless and beautiful. In this at least, he should need no explanation.”

My submission features work from Peru. It is my most current work, best work and the work which excites me the most. It is documentary images and my edit will hopefully tell interesting stories in an exhibition. I daydream of a larger exhibition featuring all 3 years. First, let us see how this application fares. Fingers crossed, use the force — this is the application you have been looking for.

(In Peru with Adam Weintraub on PhotoExperience.net workshop)

Last year I had the pleasure of participating in Rear Curtain‘s DiTL – Day in the Life Of - project. Published two months ago, I am catching up on a backlog of stories from my blogging hiatus.

It was a very interesting and fun challenge to document a “day” in my life. My story is not a day but moments in my life at that particular time — captured while I visited Copenhagen in Summer 2011. Fuji X100, Canon 5D, iphone, anything I had on me was used to document moments. How to transform the moments that mean something to me into images was my main challenge and source of many a swear word. Images never come easy.

Thanks very much to the Rear Curtain crew, the awesome DiTL crew of Charlene Winfred (the excellent nag-in-chief!), Rad Deverala, Radek Kozak, Sharon Barnes and Thomas Schmidt.

Click the image to read my DiTL story. Do also read the other brilliant DiTL entries here.

Bolivia. Santa Cruz. Tropical heat and humidity. Wandering around possibly the largest and craziest market I have ever seen. Thousands of Bolivians, a few mennonites and 1 gringo. Woman selling mirrors wanders past. Reflection catches my eye. One shot from the hip.

Six soles and a hasta lluego later, I have arrived. I look for el boletero, where do I buy my ticket? Confounded, I look at others and reverse engineer. A tiny hole in the wall, not much bigger than my hand, holds the secret to getting in. 30 soles and a ticket are exchanged. All I see is a hand, I wonder what is at the other end. I forget about my stomach ache and my cold and excitedly enter the Coliseo. The coliseum houses a famous and infamous Peruvian tradition – cockfights.

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It appears to be a quiet day, the coliseum is barely half full. It is an overcast cold Summer day. Still, the air is filled with anticipation, laughter and a thirst for action (and Cusqueña cervesas). I am the only gringo, I circle and become familiar with the place, the people, the action. I capture a few images on the edge, easing my way in. A fight is about to start. The roosters are fitted with the long sharp silvery spurs. “Izquierda”, “derecho”. Bets are made on the left or right side rooster. The tension builds. I ask for permission to enter the arena and shoot the preparations, am granted a “si si amigo” with a friendly smile and waved into the arena. Everyone reminds me “sin flash sin flash amigo!”. Claro, no problemo. No flash shooting for me, I do not wish to see a rooster in a blinded-by-the-flash freaked out rage chase me around the arena with a silver knife strapped to it’s leg (others might find that idea quite amusing though).

We leave the arena, the fight begins, the roosters circle each other. First fight is non dramatic, the roosters do not want to engage despite much egging on by the crowd and managers. “This was not so bad” I think, not really liking the whole concept of humans making animals fight. Next fight, different story. Rooster Derecho is violently slain dead in 30 seconds by a vicious rooster Izquierda. Crowd is excited. Stunned, I stop shooting. Loco. That was insane, dramatic, violent and bloody. The whole place is insane. And very interesting. Steeped in tradition, culture, violence, betting, life death and anarchy. Loud music is pumped out between the fights. Beer, lots of beer is inhaled. I must keep shooting and pick up the camera again.

The music is muted. Anticipation is high, tension can be tasted in the air. Final bets are made. New fights begin. Working the scene is a joy as it usually is in Peru, everyone allows me to go where I like. And get in close. This is intense, this odd micro cosmos contained within the Coliseo.

Two hours pass quickly, I walk out the gates and re-enter Cusco, insert myself into another tiny taxi, taking me to an Indian restaurant to meet Adam Weintraub and family. Loco. This whole day has been insane. And rather awesome. Started off the day in the Amazon jungle, returned to Cusco, experienced a very Peruvian event, the cockfights, and am now at an Indian restaurant with my Cusco friends. Only in Peru.

Thanks to Adam, Carlos and Maria for the Coliseo de Gallos experience.

Meet Glenn Baker. Glenn arrived from the 50s in his time machine wearing white sneakers, blue jeans and a black T-shirt. Glenn has seen a bit of mileage, so has the old cars and trucks that Glenn restores. Glenn breathes new life into them, takes them to a level of artwork. Glenn has looks and character to even outshine the cars.

Glenn is a friend of my friend Mark Stothard, I assisted Mark on a night shoot Mark was doing of Glenn and his treasured baby, his blue truck. Paul Pichugin showed up with some nice Bowen lights adding to the arsenal. An arsenal that includes umbrellas to shield from the rain. Using a combination of flash and light painting in an industrial setting we lit up Glenn, the truck and the factory. My portraits are however captured in natural light. View the final image from Mark here.

Gallery of behind the scenes images from a brilliant evening, cut a bit short by the rain but a part II is already scheduled:

An adventure it was, an adventure featuring classical elements. Lows, highs, challenges, disappointments, adversity, darkness, light, sadness, solitude, tears and smiles. Got a bit bumpy in the middle there, but it all sort of worked out in the end. The story of my life. But let me backtrack some.

July 2011, Copenhagen. I talk to Daniel Milnor and Adam Weintraub and soon after excitedly sign up for the PhotoExperience.Net workshop in Peru in December. The thought then becomes, with no other plans and since I am going to Peru, might as well inflate the trip into a couple of months of exploration of this, for me unknown continent. In my mind are day dreams of a South American adventure, jumping around the continent in my ‘time machine’ from country to country, capturing the lives of the people of América Del Sur. Dreams that have nothing to do with real life as we know it. Story of my life. Tend to day dream out loud and then get bruised as dreams meet reality head on.

1st of November 2011. The day has come, it is time for take-off. Time in Copenhagen stretched and warped, simultaneously feeling slow and fast. Now, sitting in the airport, time ran out, ran much too quickly. Not ready to go, not ready to stay, not prepared.

Argentina. So begins the Adventure of South America. Splashed down in Buenos Aires in my time machine. Big city, not at all my thing and not expecting to like it, but liked it even less than I expected. Saving grace was the fantastic Valentin and Ava, their brilliant B&B and the wonderful fellow guests. Finally meeting longtime acquaintance, adventurer and photographer extraordinaire and member of The Explorers Club – Daniel Fox – was also a true pleasure.

My mind balked at traveling again. Had been stalling for months meaning I had prepared nothing for this trip, apart from learning Spanish. Any attempt at preparation depressed me. What I do is not even really traveling, having no home means I am always, and I am never traveling. Just living in different places in the world. A lifestyle I no longer wanted, could no longer justify to myself. No purpose, no direction, drifting and feeling I was not much to anyone. Or not enough, anyway. Not really ready to leave Copenhagen, yet not really ready to stay. Living out of a bag, the constant transport and instability was not something my mind wanted any part of again. Buenos Aires served a purpose, it made it crystal clear what I did not want. To live as a nomad anymore. And made it crystal clear what I wanted. A home and everyday life again in Copenhagen near old friends and family. This decision gave me some much needed inner peace and strength. Somewhere in my mind a few gears clicked and started working. I finally knew I was going to be ok. In that respect I thank Buenos Aires. So I came close to giving up right away, as I saw no purpose anymore, but escaped to Salta in the Andes Mountains, hoping I would make it to the workshop in Peru.

Landing in Salta, this warm, dry and dusty desert town instantly appealed to me. Decided to find a place to hole up for a spell. Or I would go crazy, or go home – or both. Fortunately I found a nice house to rent. A house in an interesting poorer and very non-touristy part of Salta, me being the only gringo on the streets. Dusty dry streets and run down houses, cobwebs could blow across the street while gauchos slowly ride by and it would fit right in.

It was an interesting experience living in Salta for 5 weeks. Having the house and the very warm dry Summer of Salta calmed my mind. The surrounding areas and landscapes are very special and beautiful, the villages and people very interesting. Ultimately though, also a very frustrating and very lonely experience. Did not want to move, did not want to stay. Tired, the kind of tired sleep does not cure. Been on the road for too long. Really, just wanted out of my nomad lifestyle, but now that I was here in South America, must make it to the Peru workshop. Photography in Salta proved very hard. Explained in Spanish who I was and what I was doing and got to know some of the neighbors – but most people did not at all like the fact I was on the streets making pictures, and refused portraits. Sometimes drawing accusing and suspicious looks and not many smiles. Being much too sensitive to ignore this tension I grew disillusioned with my work and the nomad life I no longer wanted. Told myself that sometimes it takes a while to ‘get going’ but nothing really ever got going, running the time machine on an empty tank.

When time came to move, my mind broke down at the looming prospect of new instability. The very same day of packing my things, the last day in Salta, an acquaintance of mine in Copenhagen committed suicide. Not a close friend, but an amazing person and it affected me very deeply, sending me to a dark and lonely place. Came within a mouse click of going home to Copenhagen.

Instead, arrived in tropical Santa Cruz of Bolivia. Spent a few days and ultimately decided to weather the storm in my mind. I desperately wanted to make it to Peru and the workshop, the purpose for going to América Del Sur. My otherwise quite awful hostal had a nice swimming pool and tropical weather agrees with me. The food was much better than Argentina and cheaper, so I tried to be good to myself.

Next stop was La Paz. The first time that I actually let out a ‘wow’ in América Del Sur. The airport is located at 4km altitude in the Andes mountains. After landing, a drive down the mountainside suddenly and dramatically reveals La Paz. Mad, impossible La Paz, desperately clinging to the sides of a steep valley. Only the discovery of gold could produce a city in such a surreal location. La Paz takes your breath away. Literally. The 3.7km altitude, thin air and very steep streets are a trying combination. The ‘wow’ was short-lived. It rained an awful lot and was extremely cold, my mood was dark. Working was even harder than in Argentina. What little inspiration and energy I had left for photography, and travel, I lost.

Arriving in Cusco, Peru, and meeting me amigo, the awesome Adam Weintraub was a great relief. The workshop with Dan Milnor and Adam was now only a week away, the reason for going, the reason for not giving up. Stayed at Adam’s B&B enjoying the great hospitality of Adam and his family, and recharging internal batteries. Cusco is a fascinating and cool city full of great people. First time I got a ‘si si!’ to making a portrait of a person I was so surprised I screwed up the image. The cold weather took it’s heavy toll but the workshop was now very close.

The PhotoExperience.net workshop I have already spoken highly of in previous stories from Peru. It was a phenomenal experience and also a million laughs, very sorely needed. The workshop was worth the wait and even surpassing expectations. The fact I ended the workshop quite ill does not diminish of a fantastic time with fantastic people in wonderful Peru. The workshop challenged and rekindled my drive for photography, and especially documentary photography. My thanks to the whole workshop gang, the ‘giggle crew’, have not laughed that much that hard for that long. Peru and the workshop was a great high, a great end.

My Aventuras de América Del Sur ended in Santiago, Chile. Really just a few days of pit-stop waiting for my flight to Australia. Disliking big cities even when I am not sick, time was spent in the garden of my nice B&B recharging and recovering in the lovely warm Chilean Summer. Feeling slightly better, I boarded the plane for 24 hours of time travel to Perth, Western Australia.

So it ended, the América Del Sur adventure.
Got a bit bumpy there in the middle but it worked out in the end. The story of my life.

Postface

Not quite sure why I am even writing this post, except I feel I need to. My time machine has now brought me from the Amazon jungle in Peru to the other side of the world in a matter of days, to the sunny and warm Western Australian summer, visiting wonderful friends. Healthy again and re-charged, I look back with a different perspective. I realise that despite of, perhaps because of the hardship, América Del Sur very much crawled under my skin. Especially Peru affected my soul. The anarchy, chaos, energy, life, landscapes, villages and most of all wonderful people of Peru with their smiles and incredible hospitality left a deep impression. I feel drawn back to Peru.

Waves of homesickness hits me presently, and I seriously look forward to being home and creating the next phase in Copenhagen. Awfully exciting actually. I have traveled enough, for now. Seen enough, for now. Though, as much as it can hurt, I am not sure I ever want to stop daydreaming out loud. Only moderate it some. Questions enter my mind, with all I have seen, all I have done, can I just go back? Will it drive me crazy? Perhaps, but a life in Copenhagen is now what I want.

Whatever happens, it will be exciting. Whatever happens, I will be ok. Whatever happens, it will be another adventure, probably featuring all the classical elements.

Two and a half month I traveled and worked in América Del Sur. Having the opportunity to shoot almost every day I made a fair amount of images, street and documentary photography and some portraits. Images that I am now just starting to look at. And there’s nothing like prints to edit, sequence, select and judge images. So I very loosely selected a handful of images that looked interesting, turned out to be 185 images, about 3-4% of what I had captured. I made small prints of all of these and now I can play with them. Spread them all over the floor of the boat, touch them, shuffle them around, sequence, select them. Prints just speak to me in a way pixels on a screen do not. I can sequence and edit them over and over, creating a new creative result every time.  I am wanting to bring the physical process back into my photography and am looking forward to hopefully soon be shooting and processing black-white film myself with a Leica M6.

Looking at these images, do I have a body of work? I do not really know. There are some good images. A few greats. Lots of mediocre ones, good intentions, poor results. Forcing something out of nothing. Do I want to do something with these images? A new book? Books? A much smaller book, say concentrating on stories of Peru? Question everything? Yes. I do not know, that is part of what the prints are for, I can get to know what I have captured and see what (if anything) I want to do with these images. What do they tell me, what do I feel looking at them? Prints, even tiny ones like these, are a very important part of the process.

The Andes. Ancient and majestic mountains, windy, cold and unforgiving. The road snakes through the desolate and uninviting landscape. The sky is white, the wind fierce and colours are muted to a stark monochrome mood. Yet, here in this extreme environment people live and make their lives.

More a mood than a story, these pictures were made in the Andes mountains of Peru driving from Arequipa to Chivay. This was the third story I submitted for the group reviews in the brilliant Adam Weintraub PhotoExperience.net workshop with Daniel Milnor.

The solitude spoke to me instantly. I know it well having mapped out that feeling intensely. I chose black and white as I wished to do a different story at this time in the workshop, and it enhances the mood of the harsh environment. The 2nd to last image is easily omitted but I wanted to bring the traveler into this environment, 4 kilometers altitude, unforgiving, uninviting, fascinating.