Before I leave for Tokyo, I’ve been thinking about the difference between long-form and short-form study—between deep familiarity and fast clarity—and how each shapes the way I photograph and teach. Whether it’s a workshop in Maui or a night shoot in Shinjuku, it all comes back to one thing: learning how to truly see.

Reflecting on the passing of a legend, this tribute to Sebastião Salgado explores the depth of his work, his influence on my path, and what he gave to the world through photography.

If you’ve been doing strong work for years and still feel like you have nothing to say about it—maybe it’s time to ask yourself why. Not to shame yourself. But to see that this might be the doorway to something more.

Not every phase of the photographic journey comes with direction. Sometimes, it begins with not knowing—only the pull to keep going, and the trust that meaning will meet you along the way.

What we say about our photographs—how we describe them, interpret them, share them—can shape the work itself. After years spent in galleries and in conversation with collectors, I’ve learned that finding the words is more than an afterthought. It’s a creative act of its own.

Some images begin not with a plan, but with a feeling. Michelle Aronson reflects on photography as a personal practice—shaped by intuition, emotion, and the quiet process of learning to see more clearly.

Even after 25 years on the path, insecurity still surfaces—especially when it comes to sharing. But when we meet it with presence, it becomes part of the process, not a barrier to it.

Some of the most extraordinary images can’t be planned—they come when you trust your instincts. This is why intuition may be a photographer’s greatest tool, leading you to moments of magic and connection that go far beyond the frame.

Curiosity isn’t just about looking—it’s about seeing in a deeper, more intentional way. The more we engage with the world, the more it reveals itself to us. Light, texture, movement—each moment carries something waiting to be noticed. By training ourselves to observe with curiosity, we open the door to richer, more compelling photography.

Camera design has barely evolved in decades—but why? The Sigma BF challenges outdated conventions, proving that minimalism, materials, and intuitive function can redefine how a camera looks and operates.

Space in an image is not emptiness—it’s presence. It’s what allows a photograph to breathe, to resonate, to feel. By making deliberate choices about what to leave out, we create room for depth, emotion, and meaning. In this post, I explore how embracing space—both in photography and in life—can lead to more powerful, more intentional images.

What makes a photograph resonate isn’t how closely it mirrors reality—it’s how deeply it reflects you. Beyond what the eye sees lies something more: feeling, memory, and interpretation. The question is—how do you bring that into your images?