This blog is meant to document my endeavors, experiences, and lessons as I navigate the transition into life as a documentary photographer and (hopefully also) photojournalist. But the more drafts I compile, the more I feel compelled to stitch in off-topic threads.
Collage
Yesterday, I stumbled upon Alex Hyett’s blog, where he laments the loss of “the old internet filled with personal websites and weird and wonderful things.” His words struck a chord. I want to add to that spirit. Not with a grand declaration, but with a patchwork of anecdotes, half-formed ideas, and stories that don’t fit neatly anywhere else. A scrapbook of what occupies my mind. A small, defiant contribution to this network of knowledge, creativity, and humanism—because I still believe the internet should be that.
[…] given how much the web has changed in the past 30 years, it would be defeatist and unimaginative to assume that the web as we know it can’t be changed for the better in the next 30.
Tim Berners-Lee
If we give up on building a better web now, then the web will not have failed us. We will have failed the web.
The Guillotine
Midway through an autoplay spiral of punk and hard rock, the algorithm dug up The Guillotine by Escape the Fate—off their 2006 album Dying is your latest Fashion. The opening riff landed like a gut-punch of nostalgia: those melodic hooks, the raw screams, the unmistakable early-2000s American rock snarl. Instantly, I was back in my late teens. Rock, in all its forms, has not just stuck with me—it has grown with me.
(Source: MusicBrainz)
Qualms
This afternoon found me in that hypnagogic drift between wakefulness and sleep, grappling with the weight of unanswered questions: Which projects should I focus on this year? Am I still on the right path? Is it time for HEFAT training—to step closer to European conflict zones—and do I have the physical stamina for this kind of work? And how does one even measure impact? How will I know if my photographs do more than just bear witness—if they actually move the needle? Can I become the photojournalist I envision, or should I remain soley anchored in documentary photography? How can I possibly balance a regular job with documentary work, photojournalism, volunteering, family and friends?
The questions don’t arrive in order. They collide like storm waves – doubt crashing against resolve – each one dragging me deeper into that space between capability and obligation.
