Doing our best to stay present, enjoy the company of our little family, and get a breath of fresh air this wet and cold Saturday.
March was wild here in Seattle. COVID was new and wild and nobody had adjusted yet. Seattle was kind of ground zero for awhile, even though numbers were so, so, low compared to what we know now. The work felt important, and scary, but was so……boring, visually.
During this project for Rolling Stone, things started to feel a bit different. The city truly felt quiet. Things were changing and we were adjusting into the new normal. I was lucky enough to speak with some nurses and photograph them. It was eye opening, but they were also upbeat, and calm. Nurses have always been the best, and this is the best example we have yet. I hope they are doing okay, ten months later.
Here’s a look back to the quiet, strange place Seattle was in as the U.S. began to pay attention. There were no ambulances everywhere, there was no chaos, there was no masking: there was just the void of anything.
How it compares to now makes me feel all sorts of ways.
I’ve always *thought* about photographing mountain biking more, but every time I do, I just end up wanting to ride, and I put the camera in my pack. It’s something I cherish and feels special every time I get to sneak out and it’s a great escape from the mental hurdles of the everyday. I’ve really been wanting to change that, and a good friend of mine, Chip Woodley, gave me a good excuse.
Chip, lead spiritual guide at a local mountain bike training program and Kona Bicycles ambassador was writing a review of his new Kona Process 153 DL for Radavist with a different sort of twist. His goal: a bike review that is less about the details and more about the feeling.
Here are a few photos from our day in the wet and dark woods of Fall City.
A new blog, wow! I <3’ed blogging about photographing and assignments back in college, and then instagram took over, and the world changed. I have some feelings about that I’ll share in a post soon, but in the meantime, I’m going to move from that platform, to this blog, to share more work. Pictures aren’t meant to be seen small all the time.
But back to the current state of affairs and matters at hand.
This last year….was a lot. It still is a lot. I felt/feel trapped, and I think we all do in our own unique ways. Trapped in our house, trapped in our city, trapped in our country, trapped financially, trapped socially, trapped in our masks, routines etc. etc. Decisions have been harder and stakes higher. My partner and I needed a break from it all and to see something different from these walls and the inside of our heads…. the best and safest way we could muster. We struck while COVID numbers were low (lower than now!) at the end of summer and early fall and headed home to Utah from Washington by way of Idaho, Oregon, California and even Arizona. We kept to ourselves or outside the best we could. It did so much for our mental health, and I feel lucky to have been able to travel in any capacity this year. When we got home, and November came, things became more insular than they had been since March, with good reason.
Road trips always reinvigorate my feelings towards photography, way more than any trip on a plane. When I fly, I feel disconnected from my destination, especially if I’m photographing for personal work. On the road, I still have that thread of where I came from and where I’m headed. It’s like a line to my former self, especially when I’m traveling to places I once lived. Enjoy this too-big gallery of pictures I took for fun, of my family, and for no other reason at all. It felt good, and if 2020 taught me anything, it’s that sometimes you have to lean into that when you can.
I’ll probably divide this into two posts, as I just enjoy looking back on the pictures, and there’s too many I enjoy to cram it all into one.