ADVENTURES
ADVENTURES
Grand Canyon
As I stood on the rim of the Grand Canyon, the vast expanse of color and light seemed to reflect my internal landscape. Photography has always been my refuge, a way to capture moments and emotions that often elude words. But recently, I found myself grappling with a heavy blanket of depression that threatened to cloud my vision, even in this breathtaking place.
The Grand Canyon, with its layers of rock that tell stories of time and resilience, became my muse. Each sunrise painted the canyon in hues of orange and pink, offering a stark contrast to my internal struggle. I began to see the canyon not just as a stunning backdrop but as a metaphor for my own journey through darkness. Just as the canyon was carved by relentless forces, I too was navigating through the chiseling effects of my own experiences.
Armed with my camera, I ventured deeper into the park. Each click of the shutter became a meditation, a way to focus my mind on the beauty surrounding me. I learned to embrace imperfection in my photographs—capturing blurred movements, unbalanced compositions, and fleeting moments of light. This acceptance mirrored my own healing process; acknowledging that it’s okay not to have everything figured out.
The act of photographing the Grand Canyon helped me find clarity amidst chaos. I discovered that creativity could be a powerful antidote to depression. The simple joy of framing a shot, watching the golden hour bathe the landscape in warmth, reminded me that there is beauty even in the depths of despair.
In sharing my journey, I hope to inspire others who might be facing their own shadows. Creativity, whether through photography or any other form of expression, can illuminate the path through darkness. It’s a reminder that while the canyon may have its depths, it also has its peaks, and both are essential to the landscape of our lives.
So next time you find yourself in a tough spot, grab your camera—or any tool that allows you to express yourself—and remember: even the darkest moments can yield stunning perspectives.
Old Town, San Diego
/
Old Town, San Diego /
In Old Town San Diego. You're walking to a restaurant to have half off margaritas for happy hour. There's a cool breeze as you make your way down the sidewalk. There's muffled music coming from the bars as you get closer to your party destination. As you're waiting in line for your table to be ready, you check your phone to see where your friends are. From the side you catch a slight gleam from something on the ground, your eyes focus from your phone to the ground and you make out a bronze medallion anchored into the gray sidewalk that reads "Grave Site".
Curious, you walk the curb and you find another one, and another and another. Every 6 feet, a bronze speck of forgotten recognition. Below the tourist destination, below the happy hours and weekend parties, are the souls of a time remembered only in museums.
Bulldozed and desecrated graves made room for bars and parking lots. Ornate granite headstones, memorializing Beloved Mothers or Devoted Fathers, reduced to a bronze coin placed roughly in a concrete sidewalk.