Wrinkles

"Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been." Mark Twain is one of my favorites; but he falls short here. Wrinkles indicate a life lived. They are products of smiles, tears, anger, hardship, grief, joy, love and the range of emotions only gained through experience. 

This woman forever captivates my spirit. She was sitting in Amaru, Peru drinking homemade chicha (corn beer). My best buddy Yieber and I approached her and started chatting. Quechua being Yieber's first language provided us direct insight and instant connection. She spoke of a arduous life lived at high altitude, working in the fields, being a mother, a grandmother and just embodying what the human experience is for so many campesinas living in the high Andes. She even scolded me for not taking the glass of chicha with two hands and informed me, I wouldn't be having many babies if I continued accepting with one hand. Her countenance explains it all. Authentic. Straight forward. No complaints about being poor or living such a difficult, physical life....just a matter of fact attitude with some sagely advice intermixed. 

Here I sit, aware of my privilege. Consciously grateful to be able to travel to such places and hear other's experiences. The takeaway... infinite. I crave these interactions. Profound gratitude resides in my very core. I have fostered incredibly special relationships with people around the world who grew up very different than I did. They have shaped my perspectives and left an indelible sense of curiosity and compassion for the human spirit. I look up to those who have persevered through true adversity with a sense of dignity and generosity that is utterly remarkable and admirable.

Those wrinkle aren't solely evidence of myriad smiles. They are boundless emotions worn on a face of a life lived. I hope one day, I'll have as many wrinkles.

For more interesting thoughts regarding portraiture, check our Steve McCurry's blog here: https://stevemccurry.blog/2017/03/01/on-portraiture-2/

Neighborly Compassionate Reminder.

Just a little while ago, I was looking out of my kitchen window. I live a few blocks from a senior living home. There is a fellow, Charlie, who is always out walking....rain, snow or shine. He is elderly and lives in the assisted living community. Daily, he walks by my house numerous times. He always inspires me to get outside when I see him. Today, I noticed Charlie walking by from my window...he didn't look quite right. He was stumbling and looked really dizzy. Suddenly he fell to the street. I rushed over to help. Two other neighbors immediately pulled up their trucks to also help. One ran over to the home to get a nurse, while myself and my neighbor Jason chatted with Charlie and made sure he was stable and alert and felt cared for. The staff came out and got Charlie in a wheelchair and thanked us for looking out. His blood sugar level had dropped and Charlie said he "bit a bit more off than he could chew today." He emphatically said he'll be back out again tomorrow, and I told him I'd make sure to say hello!

I don't tell this story to pat myself on the shoulder whatsoever. I tell it because lately, we have been inundated by the nasty and vitriolic things happening in our country. I have been consumed by it. I have let it profoundly effect me (as it should) to a point of almost paralyzation (which is unhealthy).

Today, was a refreshing reminder that we all need to look after one another. My neighbors jumped into assist and comfort Charlie. It made my heart smile. None of us thought about political differences, none of us thought about age, sex, gender, race....we just acted. I felt the compassion and pure human spirit again. It's still out there, and it's heart is still pumping and lungs still breathing. It was a poignant reminder to see the good in people and to get off my computer and TV screen and interact with my neighbors and look out for each other. Compassion is infectious. It's human. Thank you Charlie and to my lovely neighbors. I'll be seeing you out there tomorrow!

Photographic Memories

Viñales Valley at sunset.

Juan with his coffee plants

Meet Juan. Juan is a 70-something year old farmer (He doesn’t know his exact age) living in Viñales Valley, Cuba. On my recent trip here, I had pulled my bicycle off roadside and was curiously examining coffee cherries. Juan walks up with a delightfully welcoming grin and says. “You like coffee?” I gleefully respond, “Yes!” Juan cordially asks “Would you like to come see my house and farm? “Por supuesto!” I affirm. 

We walk 15 minutes to his house. Upon arrival, we are greeted by his loyal mutt who’s tail circles like a helicopter (Petey Pablo reference anyone?) and exhibits a playful exuberance. I ask its name. “Perro negro.” “Black Dog.” I chuckle to myself…original! Juan forcefully, yet excitedly leads me around his farm allowing me to pick coffee cherries, oranges and see his small tobacco plot as well. We then return to his home.

Juan opens the door to his home. It is perhaps 75 square feet. Austere might be an overstatement. The faded aqua tinted, splintered wood leaves small gaps where sunrays dance inside resembling a disco ball lighting effect. 

Fresh Coffee Cherries

There are two chairs. They are on their last legs literally. It seems the next person to test their fortunes, will be met with a welcoming crash to the ground. There is a simple bed in the back and a small partition wall that separates the bed from the room with chairs. Juan opens the two windows. Rain has just fallen, so there is a genuinely pleasant crispness in the air. The wind rushes in and the verdant trees and hillsides are framed perfectly. It’s a simple moment, but my soul is undeniably satiated and my heart is full. I will remember this moment for the rest of my years.

“Take a seat!” Juan says. Uh-oh. Here it comes. I see it now. The good old elementary school guffaw as the legs break and I thump the ground. Juan will be left with one chair. “Take a seat. Take a seat,” he implores. Alright. Whatever. I’ll go for it. It holds! Magic.

There is still a sense of malaise, as I sit making sure I don’t break one of Juan’s 3 possessions. He walks outside, finds a coconut and artfully slashes it with his machete. He fashions a straw out of some sort of hollow vine and hands it to me. It is gloriously delicious. We start chatting about life. Juan lives alone. His children and wife live in a town 20 or 30 miles away because of work. 

Juan cutting open a fresh coconut for me.

He says, “Mi vida…mi vida es muy tranquilo pero es dificil tambien. Somos muy pobres aqui, pero en general estoy alegre.” “My life…my life is peaceful but it is difficult too. We are very poor, but overall, I am cheerful.”

Juan points to three tiny Polaroid taped to his wall. They are photos of visitors to his house. He says, “This wonderful lady is from America…California. This lovely one is from Canada. And this really funny guy is from….Europe? France maybe?” Juan beams with pride as he looks at these photos. “Will you bring a photo next time?” “Of course,” I say. He then asks me to take a selfie with him. Wait, what? A selfie? Juan doesn’t even have electricity. My camera is rather bulky, and I say with trepidation I don’t it will work. He beseeches me to try it. We give it a go. Eagerly, we look on the LCD screen to see the results. “See, he says. It works! Bring it a printout next time of it for my wall!” We share a laugh, and I tell him I will.

“These are such special people in these photos. They are memories, I will keep forever,” Juan states. It's a truly powerful moment for me.

In large part, the essence of my photography and power of imagery resides in this story. It captures a moment that invigorates our memory forever. It brings us back to that setting at its essence.  These photos of Juan, coffee and Viñales Valley will forever hold power in my memory bank and they bridge a cultural divide. They remind me of the power of simplicity, of the human spirit and how we are all in this together.

A typical home in Vinales Valley

I hope this story resonates with you, and the photos and story give a powerful feeling of the moment. I would challenge all of you to go find a photo/s that means a lot and write about it/them. Tap into your memory and emotions and capture that image! It forces you to slow down. It conditions your attention span in a time where we bounce all over the place. It is cathartic; especially right now with everything going on in our troubling world! If you do, please share your stories with me!

Never really engaged with my blog.  I wrote one post, and then just led it fade away. I am back with renewed vigor and intention.

As Obama just stated, "This is not a period, it is a comma."

I jotted down this stream of consciousness in my journal while watching the Presidential Inauguration. Reflection via my pen and paper is cathartic. Flawed, surely; Complete, never; Genuine, absolutely:

Transitions. Shaken to the core but my indelible spirit remains. The day is here. With vigor I write, my pen scalding. Emotions complex, raw. Vulnerability perspiring, yet solidarity brimming. I tear into every fiber of this page. A flame is ignited. I stand for compassion. I will fight for equality. Light will give way and respect the dark. Extreme nationalism is antiquated. Acknowledging my fortunate freedoms by birth, utilizing them. Progress is imminent. We, the world will rise up. A world of wonderful diversity. A world that faces climate change together. A world that must come together. A world that opens our hearts to the people of Aleppo, to South Sudan, to Veterans who have sacrificed so much and are silently crying for help, to anyone in desperate need for a sense of worth.

Extreme patriotic rhetoric is no panacea to prejudice. We're not bounded merely by borders. Imaginary lines isolating us, and systemically creating notions of superiority. Wealth derives from compassion and the human spirit...not money. Time to look beyond the self and extend not merely a hand, but a resilient empathetic spirit. Even to those I vehemently oppose, I will listen; but I will not be quiet.

We are equipped with the greatest weapons of all. Love and perspective. They will prevail. The human spirit is strong not just the American one. Yes, as Americans we can use many of our collective privileges and creative aspirations and actions to stand up for what's right in this world. Thank you Obamas for your undeniable integrity. Thank you for being the face and voice for so many. You tackled our "crumbling infrastructure." You began building the bridge that brings our world together. You are truly an inspiration and your legacy resides inside my very core. Shaken as it is, it has never been more awoken.  Yes we can!

I wrote this as a follow up to a friend who commented on the writing above saying they wish they were hopeful as I was. The following is my response:

I wouldn't necessarily deem it hopeful. I'm unsure of the exact sentiment (hence the stream of consciousness and grappling of complex emotions), but I know many of us who loved the Obamas fell into a bit of complacency. We had a leader who connected with our core values and progress felt inevitable. America just felt more "human." I know I live in my bubble, but throughout my travels many in other countries spoke honorably of Obama and what our country was doing. It was rather humbling, and I felt as American as I ever have. 

Now the tables are turned, and we see many of what we considered "progress" albeit at its nascent stages... highly threatened. We have been so battered by this election and inundated with hate. negativity and inequality... it has re-ignited those core values, and we feel a greater need than ever to continue on with what the Obamas started. It's their legacy. It's our legacy that progress is forthcoming. Even Trump said in his speech today, 'What truly matters is not which party controls our government, but whether our government is controlled by the people." We, the MAJORITY of the people have to stand up and keep the progress train rolling, some semblance of hope alive, listen and hold the new government accountable. I believe in the power of the people, and I do think we are as fired up as we have ever been. I see this election result as for lack of a better term..."The white man's last stand." We are becoming a nation that is more and more tolerable and open to diversity. Sure many in middle and rural America felt unheard, and had their traditional values challenged. I have a modicum of empathy for them. Progress feels threatening. Many have never even crossed state lines before much less seen other areas of the world. So, it's difficult for them to think beyond themselves...but many of them are respectful, honest and hardworking people and they felt neglected. (Most were duped by Trump and time will show that) They felt inferior to some of the elitist attitudes that were stewing; however, I don't find anything elitist about promoting education, having tact, having integrity, compassion and a sense of class. If anything, it's what I hang my relative patriotic American hat on...Our ability in America to be creative, use free speech, be compassionate, tolerable and chase our dreams. 

The only thing I see fit right now to counter what has transpired is... By action. By listening. By not acting better than anyone. By acts of service..By compassion and by using our collective voices in whatever form that is. All that being said....we are going to face some extremely difficult times...many of us are deeply struck at the core, and I am hopeful that we will act. It's the only thing we know to do. It's not about "I" or "Making America Again" rhetoric. It's about "we" and "Making our world a more equitable and sustainable place for human beings and for our environment." It's the American thing to do". I feel many of us represent this worldview and go beyond the insular thinking of "America First". That is supremely selfish and unbecoming. I am trying mightily hard (and it's not easy) to have a fraction of the class and dignity the Obamas have embodied and had throughout this arduous election cycle.That's my rant :)...actually probably not, I am sure much more to come. And of course these are merely my opinions and hold no definitive truth.

Will you be me Valentine's Mother Nature?

Pure bliss: Kokopelli Trails. Fruita, CO.

Growing up an only child, I was bred to be fiercely independent, stubborn, curious and reflective. I would embark on daily adventures with my partner in crime, Mother Nature. She was the best adventure buddy because she taught me infinite lessons about my sense of self, beauty, humility and compassion. She never judged, she would just give me a little nudge and exclaim “Hey…let’s go explore!”  Fast forward to where I am swiftly approaching 30 and guess what? Nature is still in vogue. She has yet to go out of style. She still inspires and challenges me every day.

This Valentine’s weekend (ahem…and President’s Day), I decided to pack up the truck, load up my bikes and set out to the desert of Colorado. I tentatively planned to mountain bike in Fruita, road bike the Colorado Monument and sleep in my truck. That’s pretty much all that was on the agenda.

Well, here is what I managed to pack in, in 2 1/2 days:

The Colorado River. Kokopelli Trails. Fruita, CO.

I bathed in the frigid Colorado River where afterwards, I struggled to locate my manhood; I mountain biked some of the best desert single track I have ever ridden; I unleashed my inner rapper, Jamaican and 70s iconic rocker jamming to everything from Tupac to Bob to Zeppelin; I slept under the brilliant night sky pondering my place in this universe; I pedaled my road bike past big horn sheep and through dazzling sandstone red rock slot canyons eagerly curious what every switchback would unfurl; I trampled around climbing in snow and ice with my trusty hobbit feet and Chacos; I stumbled across fresh mountain lion tracks at night and felt that adrenaline and heightened sense of reality (might have slightly peed my pants); I drank delicious beers with new found friends on the side of the river listening to the crackling fire and strumming guitars; I sampled wine in Colorado’s Napa Valley (Palisade); I laughed until my belly hurt; I took in the splendid rainbow of colors of sunrise and sunset; I simultaneously smiled and cried as I picked out cacti from my legs; I incessantly wiggled around trying to find a marginally comfortable position sleeping in my truck; I did my best slip-n-slide up the icy slopes to a stunning travertine lake…and most importantly I rekindled my love for traveling solo and my innate curiosity for exploring.

Rim Rock Road. Colorado National Monument,

Don’t get me wrong, I love good company and thrive meeting new and interesting faces across the globe, but I undeniably and stubbornly relish just being on my own with my trusty lifelong love, Mother Nature.  It’s calming, it‘s spiritual, it’s disconnecting yet fully connected, its’ being present, it’s humbling, it’s reflective, it’s authentic, it’s honest,  it’s motivational, it’s challenging, it’s selfish yet selfless; it’s innocent, it’s well…just glorious!  There aren't enough superlatives. Traveling alone is really chicken noodle soup for the soul (or lentil for us vegetarians).

Sunset from truck mirror. Feeling rejuvenated!

I have led many trips, and many of you who read this will hopefully be one of those that I was lucky enough to cross paths with somewhere across this beautiful planet.  I am sure many of you grew tired of my rhetoric and constant nagging of me constantly reminding how important it is to take time daily for yourself and your thoughts. Well…I am at it again! Whether you live in Manhatten, rural Kansas or Timbuktu (alright that might be a bit cliche)..how about Yakutsk, Russia, there is beauty to be found and somewhere to escape to get your daily dose of Vitamin N.  Go find your happy place. Go make the familiar unfamiliar. Go adventure in whatever shape or form and trying doing it alone. Trust me, you and your thoughts will get quite creative when hanging out together. It’s like sharing secrets with yourself.

Bighorn Sheep on road bike ride. Colorado Monument.

One of my favorite quotes comes from the late Jim Valvano. He gave a speech at the ESPY’s as he was crippled and weakened by cancer which ended up killing him shortly after.  He poignantly exclaimed, “To me there are three things everyone should do every day. Number one is laugh. Number two is think -- spend some time… time in thought. Number three, you should have your emotions move you to tears. If you laugh, think and cry, that's a heck of a day.  You do that seven days a week, you're going to have something special.” I was almost 7 years old when I heard this. It has stuck with me, and it is a tried and true method to happiness, compassion and sense of self.  When you do go out and take your solo day in nature…yes you WILL do it!! Try to do these three things. I bet you they will come naturally because you are more vulnerable and in touch with your feelings. 

Mother Nature, thank you for being the best Valentine’s date a grown boy could ever ask for!

Hanging Lake. Glenwood Springs, CO.

I would love to hear everyone’s thoughts and any additional insight into alone time or being connected with nature.  Please do share!

Oh, and for all the people that got out into nature with their Valentine’s date, that’s cool too! I hope you shared intimate moments and were reminded to enjoy the simple pleasures in life!

I will leave you with a couple quotes from the masters that really resonate with this theme:

“Wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of the human spirit, and as vital to our lives as water and good bread.” –Edward Abbey

Last bit of light illuminates peaks outside Eagle, Colorado.

“I never found a companion that was so companionable as solitude." –Henry David Thereau

“If you’re lonely when you’re alone, you’re in bad company.”-Jean-Paul Sartre