At many tourist sites, authenticity reigns as the holy grail of the religious quest, a sacred commodity positioned to seduce touristic desires.
In these flower portraits, the colors, textures, and exquisite delicacy of blooming plants are an appealing target for my lens.
Watching the nearly full moon set, we felt the first hints of morning light following the solstice. Slowly the first day of the new year cut through the night’s frost to brighten a new season.
To the extent that we have all become consumers in every facet of our modern lives, we live in the touristic ethos of consumerism. All of us are tourists all of the time.
Listening distinguishes greatness among humans. The greatest among us are those who listen, hear, and feel for others.
I last ate meat on Thanksgiving Day of 2014. Vegetarianism has made my life simpler. It also has made me healthier, and I feel less culpable in our culture of slaughter.
Today my father turns 85, and he remains a living presence that continues to teach and inspire for those who pay attention.
Claims that tourism involves colonization, terrorism, dispossession, commodification are valid, but these are reasons to take tourists more seriously and study them more carefully.
The stifling remnants of summer have fled at last. Cool autumn air has settled in across the land. Although the trees remain fully leafed, the exhausted gardens sag into their final season.
This week a rotten tree fell hard in the forest. Many thousands were there to witness its undoing, but no one heard the crash. Not even the tree realized it had fallen.
My preferred question for people I have just met is “What is most important to you right now?” This question turns our conversation to something you actually are interested in.
The Latin word pax, most often translated as “peace,” lies at the etymological root of both “pay” and “pacify.” How do we fit the Pacific Ocean into this puzzle?