Into the Desert

I grew up with snowy winters, wet springs, humid summers, and crisp autumns, and until very recently had only spent two weeks of my life in any climate much different than that of New England. Nova Scotia and Scotland, I would say, do not have any weather which might be challenging to a New Englander, … Continue reading Into the Desert

Shots in the Dark

As a photographer who spends a lot of time outdoors at night, has worked closely with the performing arts for nearly a decade, and tends to draw the blinds on sunny summer days, I like to think that darkness and I are well-acquainted. Once in a while, though, a shoot comes around that reminds me not only how nice it can be to be working in the light, but also why I spend so much time understanding the limits of my physical and mental tools. Continue reading “Shots in the Dark”


The regional trains to Sighișoara are older models; wear on each surface fighting hard to preempt undoing by any future restoration efforts. Entire families fill each cabin, making the journey north from Brașov to the villages dotted along the train’s route. The cabins occupy most of the carriage’s already-narrow width, with only a single corridor along one side, barely wide enough to walk along without coming into contact with windows, doors, walls, or other passengers. My ticket had no seat marked on it, so I wandered down to one of the few openable windows and prepared myself for a few hours of standing. Continue reading “Trainsylvania”

Into the Transylvanian Hills

I departed Bucharest as early as possible aboard the northbound interregional train to Brașov. Groups of teenagers filled sections of facing seats; older couples looked out the window while their young children slept, slumped sideways into their parents’ laps; someone brought a portable speaker on board which was playing electronic hip-hop music with English vulgarities scattered … Continue reading Into the Transylvanian Hills

Ambianța Bucureștiului

I arrived in Bucharest this afternoon knowing only the number of a bus route to the center of town, the time of my return flight later in the week, and two phrases in Romanian. I had picked up “mulțumesc” and “nu vorbesc românește” just in case. Whenever I travel, locals often ask me for directions, so I like to have a polite (and clear) way to indicate that I can’t provide them with much information of use. I’m still not sure why that happens so often. Continue reading “Ambianța Bucureștiului”