Shawn Rocco is a staff photojournalist and multimedia producer at the News & Observer in Raleigh, North Carolina, he has been honored by both the National Press Photographer’s Association and the North Carolina Press Photographer’s Association. Since 2007 he has pursued a style and produced a body of award winning personal documentary work, he also coined ‘Cellular Obscura,’ which is done with the camera on a Motorola E815 cellphone. Rocco’s work with cell phone photography has been profiled in The Washington Post and The New York Times.

Academy A: I first became acquainted with your work in one of my journalism classes this semester when we had to view a number of features on photojournalists. I felt your work stuck out the most; it’s so innovative and inspired. Why did you decide to explore this new avenue of cell phone photography?

Shawn Rocco: It’s more a ‘how’ question than ‘why’. And the answer is serendipity. It all started quite by accident, not really on purpose. But when I realized the possibilities, then it took on a deeper sense of purpose.

We’re asked to use more than just a camera these days. Video recorders and audio recorders are now found in our camera bags as well. A few years ago on one particular assignment, I was tangled up in chords and technology trying to do a little of everything and I felt I was missing key moments and it was just so damn frustrating. So I took a breather to collect myself, maybe think of a different game plan and check my voicemail. I was in a light red room with a cheap lamp on a cheap table in the corner. The light was really soft though and it seemed to make for a nice still life photo. I snapped a few with my Nikon D2 but they just didn’t feel right. The photos didn’t capture the mood of the room. So just for kicks I busted out the cell phone. I don’t know why. It was there in my hand, it had a camera, and at the moment I didn’t want to be near any of my conventional equipment. So I took the photo, thought nothing of it at first because it was hard to see on the small screen but checked it later on the computer. And I was surprised. It had more feeling, mood, atmosphere than my other photo. It captured how the room felt to me. Granted, it’s not an award winner at all, but it was a success where the other failed. So I was curious. What else could be photographed with this little camera phone?

So I started exploring with it and found that the technical limitations, the parameters you have to work in, are very freeing, creatively speaking. The 8×10 aspect ratio was a nice change of composition to work with again (I have a 4×5 view camera which hasn’t seen film in a while). And the results reminded me of Polaroid where there’s a certain grittiness and imperfection that gives them a certain personality.

And once again, as a newspaper photojournalist in today’s environment there were, initially, many days I got aggravated with myself dealing with the growing pains of evolving into a multi-media journalist. So I had to take a step back and find that place once again where practicing photography, in an unobtrusive way, was a means of nurturing personal growth and an expression of ideas. I guess it was a subconscious calling to get back to basics of which I was unaware of until I came across this little tool by accident. And as I keep exploring, certain themes become clearer, which is an added plus really… to have my photography, at minimum, teach me something about myself which at some point I had forgotten or quite possibly really never knew.

But there’s a difference though, morale (and motive) wise, to be running towards something rather than running from something. So, building upon this positive experience, the journey now is to explore further the traditional art of documenting society via the minimalism of –what is so far considered– untraditional popular technology.

Academy A: So, let’s start at the beginning, why did you choose a career in photojournalism? What was your path?

SR: Well, it wasn’t the most direct path. Initially I gravitated towards studying political science in college, but I soon realized I probably wouldn’t have the patience for that field of work once I was done. I wanted to effect change and I wanted to do it now. Funny enough I ended up majoring in environmental science, but I minored in photography. I was halfway through college when I started to realize what I wanted to do. There was an intimacy and immediacy associated with taking and developing photos (this was still the darkroom days). Of course I couldn’t explain that then. But it felt more right than anything else I had studied or done up to that point.

At the same time I admired the idea of journalism as a watchdog… as the fourth estate. Information is empowering. And to be associated with that idea, as a photographer, I thought it was the best way to fight the apathy I saw around me. Of course my college (Plattsburgh State) didn’t offer a journalism major at the time. But I stayed an extra semester so I could intern at the local paper, The Press-Republican, and student-teach a few more photography classes. At the same time I was also the photo editor for Cardinal Points, the college newspaper.

At the end I thought I had a decent portfolio and had shown strong interest in the profession to get me hired at a paper. Boy, was I naive and wrong.

A good friend moved to Raleigh, NC the year before and said I should check it out. I knew about the Charlotte Observer, and the Virginian-Pilot, and Atlanta wasn’t too far. I thought it’d be a good base of operations with Raleigh having two papers; and Winston-Salem and Greensboro and Fayetteville pretty close as well.

So I moved down there in 1995 after graduation figuring a change of scenery and pace would do me good creatively as well. I started calling around and all the photo editors I spoke with said to mail over the usual resume and portfolio. Well there was problem #1, I had one portfolio and it was 11×14 black and white prints (with a couple of color ones) in a nice faux-leather portfolio case. I couldn’t send that off to everyone to have on file. Plus many photo editors asked for slides of which I didn’t have any.

The Press-Republican in Plattsburgh was a 35,000 circulation paper with two fulltime photographers and one part timer. I can’t thank Dave Paczak–who was the chief photographer at the time–enough for giving me an opportunity to intern there. The whole newsroom was in one large room; though it was a smallish paper, it was always buzzing, and that was intoxicating. But what they considered print-worthy wasn’t necessarily portfolio worthy. I soon found that out.

After speaking with a few local photojournalists and seeing their portfolios, I realized very quickly that I needed to start again. I either needed to go back to school or find a way to start getting freelance assignments and/or a fulltime job to help pay for my own documentary work.

School was out of the question financially at the time. Plus I didn’t want to be sitting in classrooms again; I wanted to be actively participating in the world. So I started to freelance and assist while working fulltime as a manager for a catering company in order to help pay for film and equipment. Freelancing was going okay. I did a lot of work for some local weekly magazines and in 1996 after Hurricane Fran hit North Carolina, I started picking up regular assignments for the Raleigh News & Observer based on the work I had done covering the storm’s aftermath.

The portfolio was improving and I was able to get a few interviews, but still nothing. In 1998, I applied and was hired as the commercial photographer for ASW, a national arts supply company headquartered here in Raleigh. It was basically a lot of product and studio work with some advertising, the total opposite of photojournalism, but they were using some high end digital cameras (whereas I was still shooting film) and I saw this as an opportunity to learn some new lighting, software and technical skills while getting paid for it.

I still continued to freelance for the News & Observer and send my resume out. But it wasn’t until 2002, seven years after college, that I was hired for my first newspaper job. My main responsibility was chief photographer for the Chapel Hill News, a twice-a-week community newspaper owned by the News & Observer, but it was a back door in to being a staff photojournalist for the main paper.

And so few years at that position I moved over to where I am now. So I was either stubborn or stupid, or both. But through it all I was undeterred. Yes, it was the long way around, but I don’t regret the life experience that came with that journey. I think in the long run it made me a better journalist for the community I live in. It’s been seven years now since I was hired and I still appreciate the position I’m in. Yes, there’s been a lot of upheaval in the industry of late and it’s not over yet, but you still have those days when you realize what an honor and privilege it is to be entrusted with telling the community’s stories, ethically and truthfully, with your personal vision and voice. It’s not something I take for granted.

Academy A: Talk to me about why most of your photos are taken in black and white, I was surprised to find that they have a rather timeless quality for being captured on a cell phone.

SR: “Timeless quality”…you answered your own question. There are a few other reasons though. The practical reason is that the files hold up better as black and white rather than color depending on the lighting circumstances. The other is that color can sometimes distract from the composition or the essence of the photo.

Academy A: I remember seeing a photograph not too long ago of a group of tourists in NYC all documenting a crime scene with their cell phones, it was almost overwhelming to see that not one person didn’t have a phone to capture the moment. How do you feel about the idea of citizen journalism with the use of modern technology?

SR: Citizen journalism…love it. The constant barrage of images via Flickr and Facebook, etc. is another topic. But citizen journalism, you can’t stop that evolution from happening because it’s been going on since cameras like the Kodak Brownie made photography accessible to everyone.

Sometimes it does get annoying when you’re on a news assignment and your access is limited because you are the “press” and people in charge of the scene keep you back behind the lines, and yet up front there’s all these cameras. In instances like that I don’t like the inconsistency in treatment.

But look at what citizen journalism has done recently, especially in Iran. Once again, information is empowering and I’m all about disseminating as much info as possible because at least we have a choice of whether or not to look at it. I’d rather be deluged and have to make a choice than not having one at all.

As for the effect on our profession? It’s still being determined. I think where citizen journalism is strongest and at its most effective is spot news. The London underground bombings, the passenger jet landing in the Hudson, Iran. These photos work because…well for the obvious reason…1. Those photographers were there first, but 2. The photos can be easily corroborated due to the quantity of visuals coming from different sources of the same scene.

But outside of that… news, features and sports stories need specific visuals of a certain quality, professional standard, and the promise of authenticity which news organizations hold their staff and contract workers accountable for. Not to say that citizen journalism is untrustworthy (and we all know mistakes, on purpose or by accident, still occur in the professional publishing world), but professionals are accountable for working within a set of standards and if you deviate wrongly from those there are consequences. I don’t think that can be said of citizen journalists. Not yet, not fully, anyway.

Academy A: You’re getting a lot of attention for your work and for finding a new medium as a photojournalist. What’s your ultimate goal and where do you hope this takes you in the future?

SR: If I had my wish, I would love to feel secure knowing that I have the opportunity to retire from whatever newspaper/news organization I was at. That was my original goal and it was going pretty good for awhile. And though it still may come true, there’s been such an upheaval in the last few years (I’ve seen many co-workers and friends lose their jobs) that this assurance diminishes on a daily basis.

So it’s funny about the timing of all this. As one door seems to slowly creak shut, another is opening.

The current media (r)evolution has been hard on many if not all of us photographers. Evolution is not easy and it’s damn sure messy. Yet if you have the capacity to be diverse it’s easier to weather the changes. So I see this as another way to be diverse. I think its 180 degrees from my daily work at the newspaper and is more in tune with fine-art documentary photography than photojournalism as many of us think of it when we hear that word. The definition of fine-art documentary vs. photojournalism is another conversation altogether, but there’s always been crossover.

Generally speaking photojournalism tells a story in an immediate fashion. Photos on the section fronts of my paper usually get straight to the point of the stories we’re illustrating. Because we have less space which means less photos and photo stories, we tend not to run those photos that leave our readers guessing what’s going on. Whereas I think some of my cell phone work is a little more ambiguous. My photo tells a story, but what story is that? So now the audience has the opportunity to imagine that answer, not be fed a replica of the reality. So there can be hundreds of stories, not just one, for each photo and each viewer can take a bit of personal ownership in that photo. The imagination is a wonderful and powerful tool, and sometimes photography (really any art) is at its best when the piece doesn’t give it all away.

Within the past year I’ve been fortunate that it’s taken on a life of its own–gallery shows (two going on now) and print sales–and so now one of my goals is to nurture it and see what grows because I think these photos work best not on a printed page or computer screen, but on a wall (or in a book), whether it be at home, a gallery, or museum.

Academy A: What has been the most rewarding experience of your career, thus far?

SR: The last few years or so really. I started this project for myself (project being a loose word). And within that regard it’s been and will continue to be nothing but a success as I feel I’m a better photographer and person for the experience. I’d like to believe I’m always learning something new, maybe pushing the boundaries a little, and not getting too comfortable to the point of stagnating. I’d like to believe that, but sometimes it’s a hard thing to measure. So I’m happy the last few years have been a period of marked tangible growth and learning. And that the photographic outcome has resonated with a lot of people for whatever the reason: what it is, how it was done, or what it represents. That was something I wasn’t quite expecting, but definitely appreciate and don’t take for granted.

Academy A: Lastly, what advice do you have for beginners in photojournalism that no school can teach?

SR: A friend said the other day that we (photojournalists) are a bunch of “bruised idealists.” I think that’s the truest label I’ve heard yet. Nothing worth having is going to come easy.

So stick with it. Don’t let all the negative news about the industry get to you. The demand for content is greater than ever. It’s the delivery system that’s broken down. But a solution and a better working business model will be found or developed. Like I said, evolution is messy.

On a side note…the canvas of the printed page has changed. The internet is awesome, but computers, though smaller, are still clunky, impersonal, and lack the ability to deliver the very important psychological response to tangibleness. The ability to hold and form and transform a tangible page is a very human behavior. Take that away, and something feels “missing.”

But technology is almost to the point where the tactile beauty and aesthetics of good page design can be replicated on a wafer-thin, rollable, bendable touch screen. When that day of convergence is mass marketable–which hopefully isn’t too far away–news organizations may find a rebirth. So if you know being a photojournalist is who you are and you have the eye or at least a strong work ethic as you find your style, you’re going to be fine. If you get into this because you think it looks easy or “cool” then it may not be the right path.

As for schooling; take a business course, minor in it in fact. Personally I think all photojournalism schools should make it mandatory.

Know, and appreciate, the value of your skills and your product.

All images © Shawn Rocco

James Whitlow Delano has lived in and documented Asia for a decade and a half.  His work has been awarded internationally from the Alfred Eisenstadt Award (from Columbia University and Life Magazine), Leica Oskar Barnack, Picture of the Year International, Photo District News and others. Delano’s series on Kabul’s drug detox and psychiatric hospital was awarded 1st place in the 2008 NPPA Best of Photojournalism competition for Best Picture Story (large markets). His first monograph book, Empire: Impressions from China (Five Continents Editions) and work from Japan Mangaland have been shown at several Leica Galleries in Europe and Empire was the first ever one-person show of photography at La Triennale di Milano Museum of Art in Italy. His second monograph book, I Viaggi di Tiziano Terzani (Vallardi / Longanesi) was released in spring 2008.  His work has appeared in New York Times Magazine, National Geographic Books, GEO, Newsweek, Mother Jones, Time Asia, Internazionale, Le Monde 2, Vanity Fair Italia, and others.  His work has shown in international photo festivals from Visa Pour L’Image and Rencontres D’Arles to photo festivals at Angkor, Cambodia, Lianzhou, China, Noorderlicht, Netherlands, Rovereto, Italia and Foto Freo, Australia.

Academy A: To start things off, I guess we should start at the beginning. So forgive me if you’ve been asked this a million times, but when did you first know that a career in photography would be possible for you?

James Whitlow Delano: That is a little ambiguous; I probably took a different route than most people photographically. At the risk of writing a life story, here is how things roughly unfolded.  While (unhappily) studying physics at the University of Colorado, I wondered into the rare books room and found original prints of masters like Henri Cartier-Bresson, Kertesz, Robert Frank and others. It was a jaw dropping moment and my attraction for photography was sealed.

That was the easy part of it. I set off for New York City in the mid-80′s and worked for people in the fashion and celebrity portrait field like Annie Leibovitz and Deborah Turbeville. I met a hero at the time, Joel Meyerowitz, and he invited me to his studio unloading prints from his seminal work, “Cape Light.” Meyerowitz pulled out a little quiet camera and began a portrait session, that was my introduction to Leica cameras which to this day I use on the streets.

After moving to Los Angeles and carrying on working with people like Greg Gorman and Michel Comte, I realized that my heart was not in fashion photography but doing street photography. I learned from a friend of an opportunity to work in Japan, and getting a visa for teaching English. This provided the stability to live and photograph on the streets of Tokyo. This was 1993.

Finally I decided, if I could not make my sustenance doing reportage, then I would find another way to earn a living. China was waking up and Asia is still so rich in cultural diversity that I have been fortunate to be in the right place at the right time.

Academy A: I think the aspect I love most about your photographs is that you primarily shoot them in black and white. As I start out, I find myself taking all my photos this way. The emotion and rawness of the image seems more present in black and white photos than in color. Why do you think this is?

JWD: This is almost unanswerable. It is an organic, elastic relationship one develops with one medium or another. I like the immediate step back from reality you get with black and white. I feel more for black and white photographs. There is a thread to the past that makes those who came before more human and less ‘those stiff people’ in old photographs. There is a way to comment on the future and scratch just below the surface suggesting at the spirit underneath.

I work fast, color is a much more finicky a medium. I need to move fast and think about what is around me, I do not want to be too consumed with the camera. It is a means to an end, not an end unto itself.  I want it to be an instinctive process making photographs.

Academy A: What inspires you to immerse yourself in a story, like the one you did on sex workers?

JWD: I like to be surprised, the sex workers series surprised me. It broke down barriers. The series came out of a smaller series on the sex workers in Tijuana, Mexico called “Paraditas.”  I was surprised that I could enter their world and work. It definitely had an edge and I have to use all my instincts to enter into these locations.

When I began photographing the series I liked what I saw and thought to take this as far as it could go. I wanted an existential look at that world, without blinking and then let the chips fall where they would.

Academy A: In a story like the sex workers one, how do you gain the trust of the people in this trade? Many of the photographs you took are so compelling because the women are being so open and allowing you to see them at their most vulnerable.

JWD: I approached them as one person to another, they know clearly and inherently that I would not touch them or violate their space in any way. There were clear limits to what I wanted to show of their lives. For example, I have no interest in the sexual act.  That dehumanizes these women. I wanted to show their humanity, vulnerability and strength.

If a woman were not interested in being photographed, I thanked them and moved away. Just like anyone, they want to be respected. There may have been a limit to how much they wanted to reveal about themselves, I stopped where they wanted me to.  Most were simply single mothers who had come on hard times.

Academy A: In your Faces of Islam story, I was especially struck by the picture, “Moor nomad and his camel, Sahara Desert near Algerian frontier in Morocco.” How did this image come to be? When viewing it, all I could think was that I would want to meet this person, he seemed completely fascinating and mysterious.

JWD: I had traveled down from the Atlas Mountains and through striking date palmeries that are planted around Kasbahs that follow the courses of rivers. Finally the rivers all die in the Sahara. I met this man beyond the last oasis town on an ominous, windy, sandy afternoon. He had put the end of the turban to cover his face and make it easier to breathe. For a camera, sand is more a problem than water, so I had to work in bursts and then protect the camera. It can be a fairly lawless place and was exceedingly so in the past.  So, the people are pretty tough down in the desert.

Academy A: You photograph some interesting and somewhat dangerous locations, like the Kabul Psychiatry and Drug Dependency Hospital. Has there ever been a time that you have felt scared on any of your travels?

JWD: I have been concerned a couple of times. Mostly, when travelling to some place like Afghanistan, Yemen or the Southern Philippines, 98% of the people are quite friendly; the other 2% can really ruin your day and they can come out of nowhere.

In Yemen, I was in a vehicle coming down from a region along the border of Saudi Arabia that is now closed off because of a separatist movement that was just about to boil over while I was there.  A military escort was required to travel up to the city of Sa’dah to photograph the weapons bazaar, where one can buy an AK-47 as easily as buying an I-Pod in the US.

My travel partners did not want to pay a baksheesh to the second guide as they viewed him as a hanger on. I did not view him that way and wanted to pay him a modest commission/tip. On the trip back south to the capital, the military escort inexplicably deserted us half way at the border of two governorates.

Less than 30 minutes later, on a sparkling sunny day, a man stood in the road in a small ravine with a Kalashnikov and told us to stop.  His weapon was pointed down and not at us, the driver used this tactical error to gun the engine and make a run for it. We put a couple of hundred yards between us and him before he opened fire. We escaped.  It happened too quickly to get shaken up until later, I was more prudent the next time.

I had been in a vehicle that screamed out “foreigner.”  The next time I returned to the mountains, police insisted I hire a slightly less conspicuous local taxi, not an SUV favored by NGO’s. To be on the safe side on that return trip, I donned a turban and took my place in a local Yemeni group taxi.  I watched the exact scenario unfold again, when a man armed with an AK-47 entered and paused in the middle. He looked at our vehicle and thought he saw a vehicle full of Yemenis. We passed by safely.

Academy A: What has been your most rewarding experience as a photojournalist, thus far?

JWD: I suppose that the most gratifying on a certain level was the privilege of exposing the truth about Cyclone Nargis. The Burmese junta did not want the truth about the severity of the disaster to be shown to the outside world.

I was there by chance on another assignment and returned to Yangon the afternoon the cyclone struck. There had been no warning that I could see. Burmese television did not warn the people properly, or at all, as far as I could tell. I had access to CNN the afternoon I returned to Yangon and they warned that a category 4 storm was about to bear down on the Irrawaddy River Delta. The brunt of the storm passed right over Yangon that night snapping trees like pencils and taking out electricity and water for days. Still I knew that it was worse in the delta. I hired a car with a colleague and we got down into the delta before the incompetent regime could close the handful of roads down there.

I still find moments when I return there in my mind. It is never easy to erase the horror on the faces of the gentle families I met down there. Death was everywhere and the waters had risen to chest high or higher in a flat estuary driven by 100 mph+ winds where most people live in bamboo houses raised three feet off the ground. There had been nowhere to run. To stand among them, I knew that I could not have fared any better. Without the good fortune of being on higher ground in a concrete building, I would have perished just like anyone else. I got the film out of the country and it ran in Vanity Fair Italia. I feel like this story affected more people positively than any other.

Academy A: Lastly, what advice do you have for beginners in photojournalism that no school can teach?

JWD: I advise you to take as much control as you can. Do not wait for opportunity. Go out and find it.  This process is a marathon, not a sprint. I found opportunity by moving to Asia, it is still possible to do that. This can set you apart.

For a very long time, I had no option. Given that situation, I would advise you to find stories in your own life and ask yourself, will anyone outside of my area find this interesting. Is it a universal theme? Does it have national or international ramifications?

Produce stories. No matter how much technologies change, people do not. We still love a good story. Do not be afraid to develop your own style even if you might lose certain clients shooting that way. BE YOURSELF. Don’t be afraid to take calculated chances. War photography is often viewed as a way to rise quickly, I think you are better advised to develop human stories around social upheaval as opposed to showing barbarism.

Finally, photography must be an obsession. You must love it enough to eat, sleep and drink photography because it will test your resolve. Only if you love it, will you have the tenacity to follow through on your goal.

All images © James Whitlow Delano

Watching you drown
I’ll follow you down
and I am here right beside you
the lights in the sky
have finally arrived
I am staying right beside you

—Nine Inch Nails, “Lights in the Sky”

© Paul Octavious — Same Hill, Different Day

Contessa Christina Paolozzi died by the time she was 49 – a short (but very privileged and eventful) life with plenty of impact. Imagine, this photo appeared in Harper’s Bazaar in 1962, a magazine available at supermarkets! Where has that vision gone? Why aren’t we bringing art to the masses anymore? Giving people far outside the cultural hubs a taste of sophistication – that initiative should not have faded out.

TIME (Jan. 26, 1962):

There was still much ado about the nothing worn (above the waist, anyhow) by frail Model Christina Paolozzi, 22, in a full-page Richard Avedon photograph published by Harper’s Bazaar in the January issue. The clothes-horsing magazine identified Manhattan-born Christina as a “Contessa” (she insists she is not), proudly admired “the classic spirit, abhorring the demure and falsely modest.” But the photo was agitating the female press corps to its foundations. Tartly advised Syndicated Columnist Inez Robb: “The excursion into overexposure has unwittingly proved that not diamonds but clothes are a girl’s best friend.”

Credit: Contessa Christina Paolozzi, Hair by Kenneth, New York. June 1961. Gelatin silver print, 6 3/16 x 4 3/16″ (15.7 x 10.6 cm). © 2011 The Richard Avedon Foundation

© Egill Bjarki Jónsson

Sharon Montrose does these amazing portraits of animals, currently for sale at 20×200. As a little Christmas present to myself I picked up her Lamb No. 3, which is the perfect blend of innocence and minimalism. The austere environment she shoots everything from giraffes to pigs in is a nice contrast to all their distinct and lively personalities. It sort of reduces them all to looking taxidermic — stuffed animals that wouldn’t be out of place in a child’s nursery.

© Sharon Montrose

I came across the work of Kari Hartmann on Twitter, randomly. I was jumping around to different people my followers were following and stopped at Kari’s page, which was charming enough for me to click the link to her Tumblr and then her Flickr galleries. It was there that I became transfixed by her imagery–anything that captures a slice of life interests me immediately and this is what her photos are to me. They are little parts of a life, a full life of adventure and beauty. There are small, quiet moments and massive, loud ones that come alive the instant you lay eyes on them. Something to be thankful for, no?

I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me, but it’s hard to stay mad when there’s so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing it all at once, and it’s too much; my heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst… And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain, and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life… You have no idea what I’m talking about, I’m sure. But don’t worry… You will someday.

–Lester Burnham, American Beauty

© Kari Hartmann

These international, limited edition posters for Black Swan, starring Natalie Portman, are truly something to behold–very 70′s in design, the art deco take is like something Kubrick or Polanski would’ve commissioned. It’s one my most anticipated films for the winter season and the trailer is one of the best I’ve seen in years. This year has been about independent films getting back to their roots of not only great acting, but also great visuals (see: I Am Love, Winters Bone and Coco & Igor).

Images: Empire

I’ve spent, and continue to spend, a decent part of my life staring out of windows, entranced by what’s outside, even if the outside is as predictably dull as I know it is. I have a thesis class this semester and my desk is situated right by this large window, and every time I’m in there I can hear the professor lecturing but my eyes are involuntarily pulled to what’s outside. It’s nothing groundbreaking: just the campus and some random people walking by, but I still want to go through the window. I almost get this paralyzed feeling and when I saw these photos from Danielle Nelson Mourning, I could see myself reflected back–or at least the essence of what takes me over. The total out-of-body experience of being lost in the outside world. There will be a day, I hope, when I’m not looking for an escape.

© Danielle Nelson Mourning, Homecoming

I’m having a Sofia Coppola moment today reading all the reviews from the Venice Film Festival for her newest venture, Somewhere with Stephen Dorff, which follows her usual routine of getting a look inside the melancholy of wealth and privilege. These photos are a nice juxtaposition to her style–a sort of moody, grainy dream encapsulating the most ordinary of circumstances.

© Katherine Squier