La Princesa

There are many princesses in the world. Many. They are everywhere I look.

There are many princesses I like. Many.

But there is only one that can be top princess. Just one.

And this one is mine.

She doesn’t know who I am cause Uncle Dan only sees here from time to time, but he is working on changing that.

By the way, my sister shot this, and just emailed me this image, which was shot around………………………..CHRISTMAS time! Not a heavy shooter my sister.

Wait, the imprint…Thanksgiving time!! Even better.

Story Behind the Photo: Unknown Mexico


Cemetery somewhere south of Nogales

I don’t remember where this is exactly, but I remember the trip. Circa 1993 or 1994

Somewhere in Mexico, south of Nogales. Another photographer and I made a voyage. She was a staffer at the paper, I was an intern.

No real plan, just drive south and see what we find. Those were the good old days. White, Toyota Corolla, a few bucks, a few rolls of Kodachrome. My Canon. My Leica.

We started near the water, then drove to Hermosillo. Rumor had it the Chupacabra was in the area. We never found it but we did drink illegal moonshine from a tiny cap. It was beyond powerful and made the back of your skull go numb.

Then we drove into the desert.

We found a cemetery where something was going on. Maybe it was Dia de los Muertos.

I think this guy was stunned by the hippie gringo, or confused. There was probably a few “Who are you?” And, “What are you doing here?” But they were cool and we made a few pictures.

That camera in my hand was the game changer. EOS 1, and 20-35mm 2.8, the first of two zooms that took the photography world by storm, as well as the first real autofocus camera to land in full force. I used that camera and that lens for YEARS. That was a Leica M4-P with a 28mm, which I sold. HUGE mistake.

I just scanned this last night and was blown away by how good these old chromes look. I think this image was Fujichrome, but I was shooting Kodachrome on that trip. I’ll post a few of those later. These chrome had great skintone, and also handled the highlights with ease. Plus, there is a depth and texture to them that I have to try to add in when I shoot digital. It never works quite the same. Not sure why it would.

Hook, Line and Sinker

Look, I don’t want to brag. But I have to.

I can’t show these images and not talk the talk.

Most of you know me as a photographer, and I’ll let you decide if I’m good at it or not.

But one thing you can’t dispute, deny or pass off is my ability to fish. Just look at the evidence.

Look at my nephew in the background. Stunned. Stunned by the fact my fish is HALF HIS SIZE. Right after these photos were taken we actually put his entire head INSIDE the mouth of the fish, which is totally legal in the county we were in.

They weren’t kidding when they named this species the “largemouth.”

Look, I’ve always been good at fishing. Just like I was always good at shooting, pistol, rifle, shotgun.

You see my dad was a competitive shooter, traveled around the US competing, but he had to work at it, nothing came easy. But for me, I could just do it from the first time I picked up a gun.

Same with fishing. I’ve been doing it since birth, and consequently I’ve become the ultimate badass when it comes to landing our scaled little, or not so little friends. Again, this proof is undeniable.

Just to back up my claims, here is a list to shut up anyone not already professing their fish envy.

I was born with gill slits.

I caught a 40-pound grouper before I could walk.

I caught a 20+ pound northern pike on 4 pound line with no leader, while fishing in a blizzard.

I’m officially listed as a “Canadian Master Angler” for smallmouth bass (We actually ate my record fish by accident.)

I once went “fishing” for an alligator with a whole chicken from Whole Foods.

I once caught over 100 fish in two days, and caught sunstroke at the same time.

Okay, and if that isn’t enough. Check the beard. I don’t think you can be a serious fisherperson without this kind of beard. I can hold flies, lures and line in my beard while I fish.

And check the vest, all seventeen pockets of it, and of course my stance, which is critical for any fish outing.

And just to keep the blogging experts from yelling at me for not posting ONLY about photography, that is a Fuji 6×9 on my shoulder. So there.

If you listen carefully when I approach a body of water you can hear a faint, high-pitched whine which is actually fish giving up. Surrendering and looking for my line.

I can’t help it. I’m that good.

I caught his thing on an Orvis flyrod, topwater popper and a trout leader, which was all I had with me. I could have thrown my car keys in and caught fish.

The problem is now my little nephew will feel the burning desire to follow in my footsteps, but in the words of the Highlander, “There can be only one.”