It's time once again for my annual photography year-in-review. A chance to pause for reflection. To look back at an entire year's worth of fractions of seconds and discover what themes emerge.
Then take those random moments, psychoanalyze them like an armchair therapist, and try to conflate their meaning into something profound.
This year's selection does not disappoint.
They say photography holds up a mirror to both the photographer and the subject. Given the less-and-less-hinged state of 2023, it's fitting that this year's collection of images reflects that.
In January, I was diagnosed with Celiac Disease—an autoimmune disorder that makes it dangerous to eat even trace amounts of gluten (wheat, barley or rye). And, therefore, dangerous to eat in most restaurants due to cross-contact.
As a man whose diet consisted mainly of gluten on gluten with a side of gluten, who arranges entire travel itineraries around rumor of a particularly promising bagel, this diagnosis was a very bitter gluten-free pill to swallow.
It would be melodramatic to say that it turned my life upside down. But it certainly turned my lifestyle.
Between this personal lifequake and the *waves-hand-at-the-state-of-the-world*, it's not a huge stretch to read meaning into this year's photographs:
Disorienting images that raise more questions than answers.
Photos that grasp for different angles, perspectives and ways of seeing to try to make sense of it all.
A search for tranquility.
Let’s break down the threads.
Late last year I started an ongoing New York project called Post No Bills. The images are unintentional artist collaborations between Advertisers and New Yorkers. The construction wall is their canvas and the layers of peeled-off posters create serendipitous art through reduction. A collage in reverse.
Looking at this year's photos, there are a lot of images that feel inspired by that project.
Last year also marked our ten-year anniversary of living in New York.
Having taken tens of thousands of images of the city, my goal now is to show New York differently.
No longer how it looks, but how it feels.
Chaos and Jazz. Beauty in disorder. A sensory smorgasbord.
(Fortunately, I haven't yet figured out a way to try to capture how New York smells. Although my ongoing Crud project comes close).
In July I converted one of my cameras to infrared. This lets you capture wavelengths of light that are invisible to the human eye. The raw files look like they've been taken through old-timey 3D movie glasses.
Once you have the image, you have to open it in Photoshop and tell Adobe that the sky is blue. That's when magic happens. On a sunny day, the light reflecting off foliage becomes gold or coral. The pictures are mystical.
Are the infrared shots symbolic of the familiar world feeling more and more foreign? Or an attempt to make sense of it all by literally looking at things in a new light?
The disorienting and otherworldly work is balanced out by the macro nature photography of flowers and frost. There's a quiet tranquility in those images. A deep cleansing breath among the collection.
But more than anything, the theme that stood out most from this year is flying. Birds. Planes. Shots taken from higher vantage points.
Maybe it's because I traveled a lot for work this year and took more shots from airplane windows.
But in the spirit of this annual review being all about reading far too deeply into my photography, flight must be symbolic of something.
At first, I thought it might represent feeling distant. Far away from simpler times and a more familiar life.
But then I googled the symbolism of flying.
In literature and dreams, flight represents freedom from struggle and limitations. Rising above. Finding hope and peace.
That was a lightning bolt.
Like an infrared conversion, it made me go back and see this whole collection in a different light.
When I started putting this post together, I expected this Year in Review to represent conflict, turmoil, and a world, in some ways, that became unrecognizable.
Now I realize that’s not it at all.
This year’s collection is flight.
In the face of everything, it is a celebration of life, resilience, and optimism.
With AI images taking over the world in 2023, and the ability to create literally any of the images you’ll find on this website in just a matter of keystrokes (but with better lighting, sharpness, and composition) it got me thinking more fundamentally about photography and why I love it.
Jay Maisel said, "There are two kinds of photographers - those who like photographs and those who like photographing."
I've always thought the reason I love photography is the way I can capture memories. Time is fleeting, but photography can freeze it. It’s like a superpower.
You can hold onto moments, even if only for a hundredth of a second. To look at old photos is like stepping into a time machine. Some images immediately transport me back to a memory. I can hear the sounds. Feel the breeze. Taste the gluten. Photography is a living museum exhibition of my life and it lets me remember it with vivid fondness.
Capturing memories is why I love photographs.
But if I had to choose between Jay’s options, the truth is I love photographing.
This year I had an epiphany about why.
While listening to an interview on Simon Sinek's podcast, A Bit of Optimism, they said one of the most powerful ways to foster happiness and peace of mind is through acts of gratitude. If you practice gratitude and make it a habit to notice the good and beauty in the world, it forces you to be more present and creates joy.
I realized that's why I love photography.
Photography is an act of gratitude.
Every time I press the shutter, it's a gesture of appreciation for something remarkable on the other side of the lens.
Thanks for indulging me in this year's Year in Review.
I hope you enjoy all of the good that I've noticed.
In the spring my company moved offices from Chelsea to 42nd Street. On a sunny day, the light changes constantly, reflecting the most amazing patterns in all of the windows. That’s my office building in the first image, mirrored in the windows of the Chrysler building.
I hope you enjoyed this year’s Year in Review. Thanks for reading!
If you enjoyed this post, please consider donating to Beyond Celiac to help find a cure for Celiac Disease.
And if you want to see more, you can check out the other years in review:
2022’s Year in Review
2020’s Year in Review
2019’s Year in Review
2018’s Year in Review
2017’s Year in Review
2016's Year in Review
2105's Year in Review
2014's Year in Review.