A few months ago I had the pleasure of taking on a really cool assignment that was the first of its kind for me: Shooting the interiors of a brand new cruise ship. In this case, the Norwegian Bliss. This is Norwegian’s flagship, and from my personal experience, it lives up to the hype. I mean, it’s got a multilevel go-kart track for chrissake! It goes without saying, but this was a great opportunity that I am quite grateful for.  (I also got to sail through the Panama Canal, which by itself was a hell of an experience I can't recommend enough).

2018 has been the year of new career experiences. I’ve shot a farm, a cruise ship, and most recently a set of train stations for GoBrightline, South Florida’s newest intercity high-speed rail train. In this article I cover the thought and process of an architecture photography shoot that I am truly grateful to have been a part of.

If you’re an experienced photographer, the following probably won’t shock you. The rest of the world doesn’t value what we do. No respect, I tell ya.

Humanity’s current default is a daily deluge of pictures. Those images are easier to take, easier to procure, and easier to ignore than ever before. When something is everywhere all the time, it’s too easy to take it for granted.

I’ve gotten into a comfortable, efficient rhythm with my architecture photography. Whether it’s a single-family home, a banquet hall, or commercial exterior, there is a predictable process by which I make my approach. This post will document what happens when things don’t go according to plan.

This post is a brief account covering how I made the photo above using only a 500 dollar camera and kit lens. The purpose of this article is to deomonstrate how you can still take great photos using basic, cheap and simple gear. 

The creative process, like the creative business, can be a feast or famine ordeal. Sometimes everything just clicks. The clouds part and the most beautiful sky appears. You're bursting with more ideas than you can manage, and you've got "keepers" to edit for weeks. But at times nothing works. Everything is shit, and no matter what you do, the shots you take can leave you pondering the thought of quitting the craft altogether. 

Photography is easier than ever. I truly believe that. It's always been a very technical craft, but there was always something mysterious and magical about the process back when a much smaller portion of the world's population could claim any type of fluency in it. 

To be quite honest, I've always been fatally allergic to blogging. I don't hate it. It's therapeutic, cathartic and for some a lucrative full-time gig that pays the bills and opens up a bounty of opportunities. But I've never been the type of person to heavily invest in something I didn't think i'd ever be good at.  For a long time, the thought of me starting a blog felt as silly as deciding to pursue a career in the NBA at 5'9 and thirty-two years of age: I could practice my ball handling til my hands went numb and take a thousand jump shots a day, but even after dedicating years of my life taking jump shots at the gym, I'd probably still be just good enough to not be embarrassing in pick-up games on the weekend.