Life in a Nutshell

I started skiing back in 2009 when Tim Kemple asked me to pick it up in order to assist him on shoots. Shortly after, I went out with a buddy in the back country and had the worst day ever. I didn’t realize that breakable crust sucks no matter how long you’ve been skiing, but I didn’t know any better. I just thought I was really shitty and that when I got better it’d be more fun. This went on for quite a few seasons. I’d go skiing in the back country, do a big lap, tomahawk my way down the hill, have an internal debate on whether or not it was actually fun, then try it again the next weekend. As the years went on, the internal debates subsided and I started to feel like I genuinely enjoyed it.

This is life in a nutshell. At first, you suck at it, but you do it because you have to, and eventually you learn to love it so much that even when you’re having bad days, you’re grateful for the experience.

The American Dream

The American dream is what has fueled immigration to this country since it was founded, but the path we take in life isn’t always dependent on the choices we make. Sometimes, because of the environment we’re born into, those choices are made for us, no matter how much we want to believe otherwise. Despite all of this, it doesn’t mean we never stop trying.

Moments of Hesitation

Split, Croatia- Two men stand in the afternoon light, their wisdom and experience combine to the tale of youth. After moments of hesitation, they trail off into silence, fading like the memories behind them. Wrinkled faces share more about their lives than any story ever could. Looking into their eyes, one can only help but feel the past. A life filled with happiness and regret, misery and hope. It’s a story played out by billions and yet no story is alike.  7 billion individual stories, with 7 billion individual outcomes. It’s amazing.

A Smoggy Feeling of Desperation

Simferopol, Ukraine- After spending a couple weeks filming rock climbing in Ukraine, I was able to take a day or two for myself and wander around Simferopol, one of the larger cities on the Crimean peninsula. The lackadaisical people floating in the sea were replaced with anxious workers scurrying about, trying to find a means to an end. The cool breeze coming off the sea was replaced with a smoggy feeling of desperation, perpetrated by industry and the old Russian cars clogging the streets.

In a quiet square tucked away from the mayhem of the city, a few people walk by heading to work. As they pass, their long shadows extend toward a large statue built by the old empire. Continuing, they cross the square until reaching a massive building looming overhead. Quickly ascending the stairs, they disappear inside, away from the traffic and haze of a city desperate for change.

The World Rushes By

Chendu, China- When life starts getting chaotic and it feels like it's spiraling out of control, I always like to take an evening walk.  At night, everything seems a little more subdued.  The lighting, the people, the energy.  Even when I was traveling through China, I could still take some time to relax and gather my thoughts.  While I was on one of my walks, I noticed a bike taxi driver waiting for his next fare.  I'm not sure what he was thinking, if he was relaxing, or just bored, but I found it interesting that he could stand out so well while the rest of the city rushed around him.  He was a rock in the middle of a raging river. Over the last couple years, he has become my rock.  A realization that sometimes it's best to stop and take a look around you, even as the world rushes by.

Aimlessly Wandering

Da Nang, Vietnam- Back in 2006, I was aimlessly wandering around South-East Asia, doing some soul searching, trying to figure out what i wanted to do with my life. One morning, while i was somewhere near Da Nang, Vietnam, i got up early, hopped on my bicycle, and headed out for a ride. Feeling the cool morning breeze on my face was a reprieve from the swamp air that haunted me during the day. Winding along the coast on a one lane empty road, my thoughts circled back in on themselves. After about 30 minutes, I arrived at a harbor, just as the sun was coming up. I stopped to take in the sights and instantly the smell of fish and gasoline burned my nose. I climbed off my bike and walked down to the shore. There was a faint bustle, with people first starting to wake. The sounds of the harbor were coming to life; the waves lapped against the shore, motors turned on, a general sense of business. Just then, two people pushed off from the coast and were headed out to their boat for the day. I sat there, watching as they toiled to get out from the shore. Suddenly, my life seemed very easy. As they disappeared among the large boats, I was happy that our paths crossed, even if they didn't know it.