A few months ago, I traveled to Vietnam with my family, and I only had 11 days to experience as much of the country as I could. From the chaotic energy of Hanoi’s streets, to the preserved stillness of Hoi An, the calm waters of Ha Long Bay, and the temples of Da Nang, each place felt visually and emotionally distinct—almost like traveling through different worlds in a single trip.
BTS -- or "behind the scenes" -- footage has become an essential part of how I tell stories; not just for social media, but for documenting the reality of underwater work. When it comes to shooting underwater, there are a ton of factors to think about — from managing your buoyancy and checking the settings on your camera housing, to being aware of your surroundings and controlling your breathing. The last thing I want to spend time worrying about, then, is how I’m going to capture behind-the-scenes content at the same time.
Back in August, I flew to the Philippines as the set photographer on a film called "Dyahe Piece" that my friend Coco Tolentino wrote and directed. It wasn’t my film, and it wasn’t my story, but it actually became one of the most fulfilling projects and trips I’ve done in a while.
On my recent trip to French Polynesia, I decided to do something new that I’ve been wanting to try for a long time: I brought along the Nikonos V, Nikon’s legendary amphibious 35mm camera from the 1980s. That meant no live preview, no autofocus, and no confirmation that anything I was shooting would actually turn out; just 36 frames of film, a light meter, and the quiet peace that comes with freediving and taking photos.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve chased moments that remind me how small I am; the moments that make the world feel big again. The sardine run is one of those moments -- a crazy spectacle of survival, chaos, and connection all at once. I went all the way to South Africa to see it with my own eyes and to feel what it means to be a part of something this wild.
There’s something to be said about carrying a camera that doesn’t feel like a burden. One that disappears into your day, quietly ready to document whatever unfolds. For the past few weeks, that camera has been the Panasonic LUMIX S9 paired with the new 18–40mm f/4.5–6.3 kit lens, and I’ve found myself reaching for it more often than expected.
I’ll be honest: I’ve never used a NAS before. As a photographer and content creator, I’ve spent years juggling stacks of external SSDs and hard drives in a messy, chaotic system that has somehow worked. But what I don’t have are enough backups, and the constant worry of a drive failing or getting lost has always nagged at me.
Until recently, I’d never really touched a Panasonic LUMIX camera. I’ve been a Sony shooter for years, and like a lot of creators juggling full-time jobs and side projects, I didn’t have the time or headspace to add a whole new system to the mix.
As smartphones have made photography more accessible than ever, a small Japanese company is taking a radically different approach to capturing memories. The Kyu camera, launched in Japan in late 2024 and now available for pre-order in the U.S., wants to challenge our relationship with digital memories through an intriguingly restrictive design philosophy.
When I mentioned to friends and family that I was heading to Iraq, the reactions were a mix of surprise and concern. Questions like, “Is it safe?” and “Why Iraq?” were common. But as a photographer driven by curiosity and a desire to capture unique experiences, I saw Iraq as an opportunity to explore a land rich in history, culture, and resilience.