Mai Pen Rai

 Bangkok, Thailand

                It had been less than a week in the Land of Smiles. We had dropped by our new Thai townhome to arrange a time to drop off some superfluous belongings (aren't they all to an extent?) and trying to avoid leaving any dead cats in our wake. That is because our new roommates Aaron and Niddy have eleven of them who don't seem to associate the downward force of a farangs foot with pain and injury. Niddy had just finished her shift as an RN at the nearby hospital and we decided to let her lead us to a tasty dinner.

                "What you want to eat," asks Niddy in her best English which is infinitely better than my best Thai, "Pad Thai?"

"Perfect," says I and meant it. I don't order Pad Thai too often for fear that I be lumped into the group of the culinarily unadventurous. But hey, I've been in Thailand for a week and I've eaten enough Thai chilies to strip the gaudy paint off a tuk tuk so it's time to try out the real deal.

                I thought we were heading around the corner to her favorite Pad Thai street stand when we hopped a bus, careening through the diesel smoke with motorbike taillights flittering through every open space in traffic like fireflies in the night sky. We snatch the last table in the bustling restaurant right up front by the sidewalk. The entire kitchen portion of the restaurant is positioned out on the sidewalk in the open air for all to see.

                It turns out that this wasn't just any Pad Thai joint. The family running it has been cooking up what is considered by many to be the best Pad Thai that Bangkok has to offer for something like eight generations. You know what else is on the menu? Nothing. It was amazing.

                Down the street and made a left. It was like walking through a portal. Khao San road. The ultimate in Southeast Asian sensory overload. Massages, tattoos, insects (for eating), tailored suits, scant bathing suits, hookers, trips departing to all points on the compass, food stalls of all varieties, internet, beer, and glistening pasty people from all over to gawk and spend. Sounds, sights, and scents as thick as the moist heat.

                We make it unscathed through the torrent of tourists. After threatening and holding out all day the skies finally began to open, it is monsoon season after all. Not too serious at first but none of us came toting an umbrella. We took shelter under an overhang which turned out to be the police station. As the drip escalated into a pour  a horde congregated around us and the cops told us to quit blocking the doorway and just come inside.

                The rain was coming down in torrential sheets and it didn't take long to happen. Out of nowhere one of the small round recessed lights in the ceiling starts to steadily drip water. It's dripping on top of a couple of filing cabinets behind the secretary. She starts fussing and an officer helps her move the cabinets and she sits back down and goes back to work. Well, the drip turns into a pour and the 15 or so tourists start chuckling and snickering.

                Peoples eyes and expressions give away their thoughts-"what a shit-show third world country, this would never happen back home." As the amount of water on the floor accumulates considerably, another bigger fluorescent fixture starts pouring. Now everyone is really cracking up.

                One of the officers brings a 5 gallon bucket which is filling up every 30-seconds while another officer pulls out his point-and-shoot camera and starts snapping photos. All the while the chief who appears to be in charge of them all, based on the collection of stars on his shoulders, is standing there reading the paper like nothing is happening.

                Things go from bad to worse as half of the light fixtures in the ceiling start gushing water. Finally, someone thinks to turn the lights off. The officer who had been ferrying 5 gallon buckets of water constantly took off his sandals and promptly slipped on the marble floor flat onto his ass into a puddle of water which elicited a squealing roar of laughter from the onlookers. The chief now picked up his newspaper holding in front of his face so he could concentrate.

                By this point half of the floor is under an inch of water and drywall seams in the ceiling have soaked through and are dripping. The one cop still seems to care even though nobody else does and attempts to create a dam out of wooden benches around the only computer in the room. The rest of the lights begin pouring water and he goes and switches them off. In the process a panel of drywall finally gives way and collapses dousing him in many gallons of water. The girls scream and the laughter is deafening. Some people are laughing so hard they are crying.

                The chief looks up expressionless at the now dark lights. He sets down his newspaper and it seemed as though he was finally going to make an effort at alleviating the situation. He pulls out his flashlight, switches it on, and continues to read the newspaper.

                Many of the drywall seams are soaking through and we decided we would fare better outside rather than tempting fate as it appeared as if the entire ceiling was preparing to collapse.

                Before I even made it to Thailand I was told and even read about a saying here, mai pen rai. It translates to something like never mind, no problem, or it can't be helped. I had heard that the saying was used commonly over here but hadn't heard it spoken yet. I still haven't heard it. But I could see it in his eyes. The chief's. He didn't look angry, frustrated or even worried, it looked like this happened to him every day. Mai pen rai.

               

It's All Burning

An unusually dry spring encouraged this wildfire to burn out of control for nearly a week. Starting near Hewlett Gulch northwest of Fort Collins the fire torched steep hillsides spreading north of the Poudre River towards subdivisions around Seaman reservoir. Fire burned this very same area less than 10 years ago.

The glow of the flames in the pluming smoke was visible as soon as we entered the canyon heading west. All of sudden we turned a corner and this is what was in front of us. Although it appears in the picture that the fire is burning the back side of that small hill there is probably close to a thousand vertical feet of burnt mountain above with embers burning like orange stars against the night sky. In fact, it took a while for our eyes to adjust and realize that you could hardly tell where the mountain with embers ended and the cool white of the stars began. It had a vaguely apocalyptic feeling but underlying that thrill was a feeling that it was natural and supposed to be there.

This shot was made at 35mm f/5.6 with a 30-second exposure from a rock partway out into the river.

It was featured on National Geographic's Daily Dozen selection (May Week 4) and can be viewed and voted on HERE.

There is the possibility of print publication if it is an editor's choice or popular vote.

Photo portfolio can be viewed HERE.

The Battlefield

Morelia, Michoacan, Mexico, 2011
A pedestrian passes by a colonial area building in Morelia, the capital and major metropolis of Michoacan, Mexico. Volcanic rock of varying colors are chinked with small flat stones which must of been quite the laborious process. Morelia is in a tectonically active area and this building has indeed withstood a test of time.

Morelia and many other parts of Mexico are currently being subjected to another type of test, a ruthless and bloody war. This is probably not news to anyone at this point as the tragedies there have not escaped the public eye of the media. The challenges and risks for journalists attempting to tell the story are great. Social media has in some ways taken up the slack where traditional journalism has reached its limits. Journalists stick their noses in peoples business which is in the greater interest of the public. When that business is the gruesome turf war of drug running mafia in a nearly lawless land who don't want international attention, wandering around asking questions with a camera and notepad may be frowned upon. However, civilians on the street who witness atrocities are able to publicize them anonymously via the internet.

Approaching Morelia by car one will witness giant billboards that have wanted printed in giant letters above mugshots of drug gang leaders. In Mexico, criminals are very direct about getting their point across. As soon as the billboards go up they hire guys to climb up there and spray paint their faces black. I doubt if they believe this will solve their problems but that it is more of a symbolic gesture. They are not necessarily saying "you don't know who I am," but more likely, "you don't want to know who I am."

It's a sad situation for Mexico and the U.S. is without a doubt to blame. The drugs being smuggled  are en route to the U.S. where all of the demand can be found. People in Mexico and Central American simply don't have the money to spend on expensive designer drugs. There are strong arguments out there for the decriminalization or legalization of drugs as a way to legitimize supply and transport, therefore negating the need for such a huge and successful black market. If you follow the news, you've probably heard discussions about this and the admittance that the war on drugs has been a complete and utter forty-year failure.

What's next? Big important decisions are going to be made in the not-so-distant future which will have a profound impact on people's lives, especially those in Mexico. Will the DEA win the fight and keep the money pipeline flowing from the taxpayers pockets or will the government admit its failure and take a new approach?

From the Darkness into the Light

The eternal hypnotic mesmerizing flicker and jumping flames of the campfire. How many collective hours, weeks, years have been spent by humans sitting around fires for hundreds of thousands of years? How many songs, tall tales, and pipe dreams emerged from human minds by the glow of the camp fire?

The most recent estimate dates human control of fire to about 1.6 million years ago. Imagine life without it. Dark nights with predators, no bubble of warmth to huddle around, no light pollution, uncooked food.

There is a sort of primeval feeling that sitting around a camp fire seems to evoke in people. And why shouldn't it? The ability to create and control fire was one of the most important accomplishments that humans have ever made. It literally pulled us out of the darkness and into the light.

I took this shot while camping for a couple nights on the Sebastian Inlet in Florida. It was a 30-second exposure with a wide angle lens and the camera sitting on the ground.

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Shooting Photos in Cold Weather

I took this shot just below the Nokhu Crags of the Never Summer Range in Northern Colorado. Fairly warm day at 15-20 degrees F considering the altitude.

Shooting in the winter can be a little tricky. Pulling a warm piece of glass such as a camera out of a warm car, pocket, or pack usually cause it to fog right over.

If you're going to be out in the cold for a while it is not a big deal because once the glass reaches the ambient temperature the fog will dissipate. A little trick if you want to get some photos in a variety of temperatures in a short amount of time is to put your camera in a plastic bag when you are making the transition. This will keep your lens from fogging over and forcing you to wait a while for it to clear. This should work with any camera. If you're using a DSLR make sure you put lens and body in a plastic bag because the glass in front of the camera sensor can also fog up. Bueno suerte!

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Media Power

This video is little lengthy for us internet-age ADHD media consumers but I feel that it is worth watching. Truthfully, it is not an easy task for a piece of media like this to hold my attention for almost half and hour but this one did. Technically very well made and does a great job at pulling at the heartstrings.

As a photographer I really enjoy capturing the beautiful things in the world and in life but then reminders like these come along that there is a contrast to the good and beauty in life. And if you want to see an example of the personification of that contrast, bad and ugliness, take a look at what Joseph Kony does.


This video is an amazing example of what Jason Russel is accomplishing through Invisible Children and the most powerful tool many people have in their pockets--internet media. It is a great concept. You look at social media and what are people doing? On Facebook people spend their time "liking" pages and causes and joining groups. On Google plus you create circles and arrange people into these. It's a way for people to create an electronic persona, a digital character and show what kind of person they are and what they stand for.

Russel is taking this idea and saying, "hey, check this out. You can be a part of this group without too much investment and be a part of something that will without a doubt make the world a better place." It's great. It's the now and the future of how people are going to stand up for what they believe in. People all over the world can amass for a cause and make their voice heard. Strength in numbers.

I think that we will see this movement set a precedent for the way that compassionate people will speak out to great injustices in the world. I will do my part to help out and keep an eye on this effort to see if it does actually lead to the arrest of Joseph Kony. Because that's the idea, right? We're all watching.

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The Unsavory Seagull

I've stayed at this beach on a few different occasions while exploring California. There is a lot to explore, Northern California being no exception. The sign proclaims "Chadbourne Gulch" but the local folk call it Blue's Beach.

It's one of few undeveloped beaches left in California that you can camp on. But probably not for long. Don't be surprised to see raging bonfires and trucks parked on the beach on the weekends. The surf can break decently from time to time and it is common to see surfers testing their luck in the frigid water, toes dangling for Great Whites to sniff and sometimes nibble on.

We showed up with just enough time for me to wander around with my gear to look for a pleasing sunset shot. After walking about a quarter mile down the beach I learned that the big sentinel of a rock sitting just off-shore actually had a nice arch in it if you if viewed from the right angle. Tripod set up, wide-angle lens in place, wireless remote on and the layering of three bracketed photos later yielded this photo.

After lighting a modest fire, comparatively speaking, and a delicious fire cooked dinner/wine combo we turned in. I followed my usual protocol of sleeping under the stars.

I awoke just as the sun began to give everything a misty, dull glow and you could just make out the mountains behind and the breaking waves in front.

Or was I awakened?

My brain clicked on before I opened my eyes and as I laid there I got this strange feeling that something woke me up.

You know the feeling of getting lightly bopped right on the nose? It's not necessarily pain but a kind of reverberation through your face. That was what I felt next.

Then I opened my eyes.

It was moist and chilly out so I had cinched down the opening of my sleeping bag so there was only about a ten inch hole. The top of the hole was blocking my view so I pulled it down to peek out.

Well, what have we here mister beady-eyed seagull standing a foot in front of my face. I'm going to go out on a limb and chance a guess you are guilty of something that has to do with me being prematurely awakened at this wee hour.

You have probably pieced together this tale of wild-bird-treachery thus far. After many, many years of sleeping out under the stars in all types of environments with all sorts of nasty creatures lurking about, this is how it's going to be?

Months of sleeping on the ground in the deserts of Baja California with no friendly rattle snake or curious tarantula?

No, it has to be a big nasty unkempt looking seagull with a curved dagger of a beak that decided to taste the tip of my nose during my peaceful slumber. Drew blood at that.

I couldn't just roll over and go back to sleep so I got up and wandered the beaches getting some nice photos and throwing rocks at seagulls. Don't worry, I didn't hit any-it was just a symbolic understanding between them and I about boundaries.

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