019: From Atlanta to Italy

From Atlanta to Italy

I’ve been sitting on these images for a while. Not because I didn’t like them, but because I needed time to see them clearly.

In 2022, I traveled through Italy, moving from Venice to Florence, then up to Lake Como, across to Lake Garda, and finally ending the trip in Oslo. I carried three cameras the whole way—my Leica M5, a point and shoot, Mamiya C330—fully mechanical, fully manual, forcing me to slow down and really look at what was in front of me.

Most of the time, I shoot black and white, Kodak Tri-X 400, but this time, I let color in. Portra 800, Kodak Gold 200—both in 35mm and 120 film. I wanted to see what Italy felt like, not just in shadows and light, but in the warmth of its streets, the way the sun hits those old buildings, the deep greens and blues of the water.

This was a different way of seeing.

Venice doesn’t sit still. It moves with the water, and you move with it.

No cars. No honking horns. Just boats and the sound of footsteps on stone. The first thing I noticed was the light—soft, bouncing off the canals, filtering through alleys, reflecting on faces. It’s a place that almost feels like it shouldn’t exist, but somehow, it does.

I reached for Tri-X 400 here. Black and white felt right for a place this timeless. I wanted to strip everything down to light and texture—to the ripples in the canal, the worn-down steps leading into the water, the people weaving through the city like it’s second nature.

But Venice at dusk? That’s when Portra 800 came in. The deep blues, the warm glow of lanterns flickering off the water—some moments just needed color.

Florence felt different. More grounded, more permanent. The city moves at its own pace, and I followed.

Walking through Florence is like walking through history. The statues, the cathedrals, the narrow streets that suddenly open into wide piazzas—it all feels intentional, like it was designed to be seen and remembered. The way the sunlight carves through the alleys made me reach for the Mamiya C330. Medium format forces you to slow down, to take in a place fully before pressing the shutter.

I shot a mix here. Tri-X 400 for the contrast, for the way it makes everything feel classic, almost eternal. But when the late afternoon sun hit, I loaded Kodak Gold 200. Florence is warm—not just in temperature, but in color, in feel. Gold 200 pulled out those rich, earthy tones, the warm stone, the soft light bouncing off centuries-old buildings.

Lake Como feels like something out of a film. The kind of place where time slows down, where you just sit back and watch the water shift with the wind.

The drive up was an experience in itself—winding roads, sudden views that made me want to pull over every five minutes. I did, a few times. You don’t rush through a place like this.

Como is where I leaned into Kodak Gold 200. The soft pastels of the buildings, the way the lake held onto the last light of the day—black and white wouldn’t have done it justice. But the streets, the old men sitting outside cafés, the boats docked in quiet harbors? That’s where Tri-X 400 gave me exactly what I needed.

Where Como felt cinematic, Garda felt wide open. More space, more air, more movement.

Here, I found myself going back to Tri-X 400. Something about the contrast, the way it let me focus on shapes and shadows. Lake Garda was alive—windsurfers flying across the water, cyclists cutting through the mountain roads, kids laughing as they ran along the shore.

But there were quiet moments too—the ones where the lake stretched out endlessly, where the sky met the water in a way that made everything feel small. Those are the images that stuck with me.

Oslo wasn’t supposed to be part of the trip, but somehow, it made sense.

After Italy’s warmth, Oslo was crisp. Clean lines, muted tones, a completely different rhythm. I didn’t shoot as much here, but the few frames I did capture? They felt like a reset. A shift before heading home.

This trip made me see differently.

I’m still black and white at heart—Tri-X 400 is always going to be my foundation. But this time, I let color be part of the story. I let Portra 800 and Kodak Gold 200 pull out the richness of the streets, the glow of the water, the warmth of the places I walked through.

This is just a glimpse. You can see the full gallery here: Italy 2022 - Full Gallery.

Let me know—have you been to Italy? What city left the biggest impression on you? Drop a comment, let’s talk.

018: Street Photography in Cartagena: Embracing Culture & Celebrating Love

Embracing Culture, Celebrating Love: Street Photography in Cartagena

A few months ago, I found myself in Colombia, flying into Bogotá before heading to Cartagena for a friend's wedding. If you've followed my work, you know I rarely pass up the chance to document new places. But this trip was different. I wasn’t in the streets all day, moving with that usual rhythm, chasing fleeting moments. Instead, I was celebrating love, spending time with my wife and friends, and soaking in the energy of the city. Still, I managed to make a few images, and the process of photographing in a different country with a different mindset gave me some new insights into street photography.

I had my Leica M5 loaded with Kodak Tri-X 400, my go-to combination for black and white street photography. I thought about bringing color film, knowing how vibrant Cartagena is, but ultimately stuck with black and white. Looking back, I know now that I’ll always make sure to shoot at least a few rolls of color. These places I’ve been visiting—Cuba, Colombia, and beyond—are alive with richness. The architecture, the street art, the movement, the way the light plays off the walls. That deserves to be seen in full. Lesson learned.

Unlike my usual solo photo walks, where I move with a certain rhythm, locked in and tuned out, this trip required a different approach. I was navigating the city with my wife and friends, which meant slowing down, being present, and experiencing the place instead of just chasing images. And honestly, I appreciated that. It reminded me that sometimes the best photographs come not from searching, but from simply being in the moment.

As photographers, it's easy to get caught up in the chase—always looking for the next frame, the perfect composition, the decisive moment. But this trip reinforced something I’ve been thinking about more lately. Every trip doesn’t have to be a full-on photo project. It’s okay to experience a place without feeling the pressure to document every corner. I wanted to embrace Cartagena, to be present at the wedding, to celebrate my friend’s love. Photography was secondary, and that was perfectly fine.

That said, the few images I did make carry a different weight. They weren’t just about documenting the city. They were about my experience in that moment. And sometimes, that’s enough.

Photographing in a place that isn’t home always shifts my perspective. In the U.S., especially in Atlanta, I have a certain rhythm, a deep familiarity with the culture and the flow of the streets. But in another country, everything slows down a bit. I pay more attention, I observe differently. I also think more about how I engage with the people I’m documenting—how I represent them and their environment in an honest and respectful way. Cartagena, with its deep history and energy, made me think about these things even more.

Colombia made me realize something I want to incorporate into my work moving forward: color. As much as I love black and white, I don’t want to limit my storytelling by ignoring the full depth of what a place offers. Countries like Cuba and Colombia breathe in color—sun-faded walls, bright fabrics catching the wind, street murals telling stories of resilience and history. I want to make sure I do those places justice by incorporating color into my work when it makes sense.

That doesn’t mean I’m stepping away from Tri-X 400 (because let’s be real, that’s not happening), but I’ll be more intentional about carrying both black and white and color film on future trips.

If you want to check out my images from Cartagena, you can view them here. Also, if you haven’t seen my post about photographing in Cuba, you can read that here.

This trip was a reminder that photography and life don’t always have to compete. Sometimes, the best way to document a place is to simply live in it. And when you do pick up the camera, those images tend to mean a little more.

If you’re interested in refining your approach to street photography, check out my post on A Gameplan for Better Street Photography—it’s been resonating with a lot of photographers online lately.

Until next time, keep creating, keep experiencing, and don’t forget to embrace the moment.