The weight was too heavy.

I used to think that more was always better.

As a shaman and a healer, I work 60 hours a week helping people with their mental and physical health. I listen, I watch, and I help others to feel better. It is a path that demands everything. I started taking photos again because I knew I needed a process that reflected my work—something to help me stay balanced and focused while I serve others.

For a long time, my photography was defined by sports. I lived for the speed and the action. I know I’m good at sports because I am naturally talented; I can sense what is about to happen before it does. I stopped that work eight years ago, but when I picked up a Leica M10 five years ago, I felt that photography could be a part of my life again.

But I made a mistake.

I thought I had to match the intensity of my healing work with technical complexity. I told myself that sports were my roots and I couldn’t let go of that “best of the best” mentality. I used the best equipment, including top-quality Canon lenses and Hasselblad cameras.

Looking back, that is not OK. It wasn’t that the gear was too difficult to use, but I realized I could not do it this way anymore. To be honest, I carried a lot of equipment with me, and it made me unhappy. The weight was so heavy that my body started to hurt; I gave all the symptoms of pain and I simply could not hold the gear anymore. I was carrying a load that didn’t belong to the person I am today.

Then there was the digital side—the endless files showing up on the computer. I just can’t handle that. I am not a Photoshop guy. I don’t want to spend my life behind a screen managing data. That is not where the life is.

Today, I am making my shelves empty. I am selling all of my Canon and all of my Hasselblad. From now on, I am only focusing on Leica.

The path of purity

I am letting go of the heavy things to make room for the light. I want to combine my healing work in my photography, and for that to happen, it needs to be pure. Purity means there is nothing between the soul and the paper.

I just love Black and White. To me, it is the purest way to see. By removing color, I can see the truth of a person’s energy and the essence of the moment. I have already started this journey; I already have my 24mm, 50mm, and 90mm Leica lenses, and I can already feel the magic and the soul they bring to the frame. This purity extends beyond the camera. It’s in the way I move through the world. Whether I am behind the wheel of my Defender 110 or on my Harley Davidson Road Glide, I am looking for that same mechanical honesty. These are tools that require you to be present, just like a Leica. They don’t drive for you; you have to feel the road.

Leica M-A

Leica M-A

Leica M10

By focusing only on the Leica M6, the M-A, and the M10, I am getting to the core of what matters. I am searching for the “glow”—specifically through lenses like the 35mm Noctilux and the 28mm f/1.4 Summilux. These tools allow me to trust my instincts and capture the spirit in its purest form.

The darkroom: my new sanctuary

The path ahead leads to the darkroom. I now mostly take photos using analogue film and develop the images myself. I am moving away from the blue light of the computer monitor and into the red light of the sanctuary.

As I feel more soul in film photography, I will share this journey here in my journal. This is where I will write about how the spirit of the moment emerges in the chemistry. This ritual is what helps me stay balanced. I want to see the physical, pure result of my instinct on a black and white print. I always get a smile out of these analogue results.

Leica M10

The website will be changing soon to reflect this new chapter and to show the new works. When I tell stories and create images, I am sharing my smile with you.

The journey begins now.