Pay what you want for my new Encounter Bundle and get instant download access to these 3 beautiful monographs and collection of desktop wallpapers.
The Wild & The Wonder
Encounters with the Extraordinary in Kenya
Photographed in Kenya over 30 days in January 2023, this was my last great adventure while awaiting my surgical date. The Wild & The Wonder is mostly work that's never been published and I believe this is my strongest work to date as I've worked to figure out what it means to do wildlife photography in a way that is most meaningful and authentic to me. I can't wait to share this with you. 60 pages, PDF format.
Encounters With India
My first trip to India was over 15 years ago now, and my time there over those years remains some of my most memorable. India will be one of my first international adventures when I'm back to travelling and photographing internationally. Join me in Old Delhi, Ladakh, Kasmir, Jodhpur and along the Ganges in Varanasi and experience the incredible human drama of the sub-continent. 84 pages, PDF format.
Encounters with Humanity
I began my career as a humanitarian photographer and while I've found myself in the wild more and more, the human connections I have found through my camera are some of the most meaningful and inspiring of my life. Catchlight contains 72 of my favourite portraits, all of them glimpses into extraordinary people with whom we share this planet. 78 pages, PDF format.
2023 Desktop Wallpaper Collection
18 Encounters with the Wild
This collection of 18 desktop wallpapers will immerse you in some of the most amazing encounters I had in the wild last year. All of them are big enought to fit some of the largest screens (4000x2250) and most of them will also look great on your iPhone too. I'm hoping you'll find the same kind of wonder and awe that I do when so close to these incredible creatures.
Pay What You Want
Some of you have been part of my community for long enough that you remember the fall I took in Italy in 2011. As the years have rolled on I've found such joy in creating new photography resources for you, hoping my gentle nudges would encourage you to make work you're proud of, take more risks, think more creatively, and—in the words of Marc Riboud—savour life intensely every 1/00 of a second. You are the reason I do what I do and I am so grateful for you. That makes it, I think, even harder to ask for help.
When I first started down the path towards amputation I had a couple friends ask me if they could build a Go Fund Me page to help support me through this, and maybe help cover some of the cost of my prosthetic leg, or even just give those who follow my work a way to buy me a drink while I recover. I was so humbled by the idea, but really uncomfortable. Like I said, it's hard to even admit the need for help, much less ask for it. I'm better at giving than receiving and asking for help has always been hard for me. So we came up with something even better.
I've created a bundle of 3 new monographs, including recent work from Kenya that's never been published, and today I'm inviting you to download it for whatever you'd like to pay. Want to pay $20? I'm so grateful! $50? $5? I'm leaving that up to you. There are 222 pages of inspiration in this bundle and, if you change desktop wallpapers once a month, over a year's worth of encounters with the wild.
Building these digital collections of my work was a good distraction from the big changes I'm about to go through, it kept me focused on the now rather than the fears, and reminded me of the hopes and dreams that lie on the other side of this. Thank you for being a part of making that happen.
The Longer Story
12 years ago I shattered both my feet after falling 10 metres while making a photograph in Italy. I was lucky to be alive when I hit the concrete below. I was evacuated back to Canada where, after 40 days in hospital and surgeries to fix the damage, I was sent home to mend and eventually learn to walk again. A few months later I was back to traveling, photographing in rice paddies in Laos and Cambodia, though my walking cane kept getting sucked into the mud, and I fell over a lot. I went to Antarctica that winter, waddling around with all the grace of the penguins around me. I fell over then too, but at least I was in good company and the landings were soft.
Over the years my mobility became worse, not better. I'd always known the damage to my right foot was bad. I was told that the night I had my accident. "You have broken both feet very badly," the ER doctor told me. "You'll always walk with a limp, though you'll limp with both feet so it won't look like a limp." I've never stopped laughing about that, though his meaning was clear: I had really screwed up this time.
6 years later my mobility was much worse, the operations hadn't helped, and I asked my surgeon for options. Dishearteningly, her reply was, "this is as good as it gets for now." 5 or 6 more years passed and not only was "as good as it gets" not good enough, it only got worse. I'm only 52 years old. I hope to have many more years of adventure ahead of me, and I've never been good at going down without a fight. So after long conversations with surgeons and prosthetist and being told that a below the knee amputation and a good prosthesis was probably my best chance at less pain and more function I asked my surgeon to make it happen. Tellingly, I think, I wasn't afraid she would agree to it, but that she would say no. That nothing would change. In the months leading up to the surgery there was plenty of fear, but also, for the first time, there was hope. Hope that I could hike again, be more active, even just walk around the house without pain and the weird lurching that I've done for the last dozen years when I'm not wearing shoes and putting on a brave face.
As I get older less and less is certain to me, but I am very sure none of us is getting the damage deposit back when we turn our bodies in at the end. I know that a lifetime is such a short interval and that we most regret what we did not do, and the risks we never found the courage to take, rather than the ones we did. I know that change is hard but is always fertile ground for growth, and sometimes not changing is even harder. I know that the human spirit is creative and resilient, and that risk and reward are intertwined. And I know that the best light often comes after the heaviest storms.
Thank you for being part of my journey. If you've chosen to download the monographs and wallpapers, you'll be taken to a page with the necessary links. Also on that page is a link to my blog and I would love to hear from you in the comments. Please drop by and say hello. You know where to find me and I'm not going anywhere for a little while.
Thank you. I am so grateful.
For the Love of the Photograph,
PS - I wrote this in the days before my surgery. Never one to struggle for words, I don't know that I got this one right. Making plans to walk into hospital to have my foot removed is just about the scariest thing I've done. I've never second-guessed myself so much as I have over the last 6 months. I hope you'll forgive me if I didn't get the tone or the timing perfect on this. Making the monographs I'm offering here helped distract me in the weeks and months before the operation, but they were also a reminder of why I'm doing this: so I can continue to do the things that bring me joy, like traveling the world with my camera and making more photographs, books, and training resources with you and for you. Thank you for the joy.
Click the PAY WHAT YOU WANT button and you'll be taken to a simple payment page. By default it's set to $20 but you can change it to any number you choose. From there you'll be given immediate access to download links and a link back to my blog where you can drop me a line in the comments. I would love to hear from you and be able to express my gratitude in person.