(Not A) Landscape Photographer
It’s been a while since I’ve done a “blog” and even saying the word feels a bit archaic. I stopped because Instagram felt like it became a better place to showcase work and have it seen. But if I’m being honest, it’s 2025 and Instagram kinda sucks butt. What was once a great place to share work and see work, picking up inspiration from the thousands of other amazing photographers, has turned into a a never ending stream of ads. If it’s not paid ads every third post, it’s “organic advertising” as people’s feeds have slowly transitioned into carefully curated posts to serve as another piece of marketing. I miss experimentation and vulnerability and not feeling like everything I share has represent my professional portfolio of work.
So here I am, in 2025, blogging. Who knows, maybe I’m ahead of the curve on returning to something that’s about to be considered “retro.”
What I’m sharing here is some photos of likely the most photographed places in the world. Places where I couldn’t possibly make a unique image. Places where tour guides will gladly take your phone, frame up a shot, and take the same photo some asshole sold for a million dollars or something. It’s places where real landscape photographers might bust out the tripod, spend an hour framing up the perfect shot, then wait for the perfect light, the perfect moment.
Then there’s me.
I walk up, think, “Oh neat!” raise the camera to my eye, and take a few photos. Maybe I take a few steps left or right, maybe a little crouching action, but it’s far too little effort for me to ever consider these true landscape photos. This is stuff that would never really fit in my portfolio, since so much of my work involves collaboration with, or at least around, other people. In fact, the distinct lack of people in most of these photos is what I find the hardest: What makes a photo compelling if not the people contained within?
What I do love about this work is that I get to focus heavily on color and composition, which sometimes have to play second fiddle to the personalities in my photos. It really becomes about highlighting details, large and small, and I appreciate the chance to let my brain try piecing all these elements together in a different way. At the end of the day, I think it helps my photographic problem solving on subsequent commissioned assignments too. But the best part, the reason I don’t care that these aren’t perfect or original, is that they’re mine. Just for me. No expectations of how they’ll be perceived; if an editor will like them enough or if they’ll get enough “likes.” This kind of stuff reminds me of why I started photographing in the first place. To simply create something.
(PS: Your phone is neat, but these photos look great on that giant monitor you’ve got too!)