When I was 14, my dad gave me my first camera and a roll of 35mm film. He taught me how to properly expose an image, and then sent me off into the world to explore with it. I shot a lot of the things we shoot when we’re new — flowers in the woods, old windows in alleys, your basic, overly-artsy, angsty teenager subject matter.

We went to a local dark room (those were still around back then), and I learned how to develop my own film, use an enlarger, and print images. I was immediately in love with the whole process.

A year or two later, I went to stay with a friend in L.A. for a week in the summer. We both slung our cameras over our shoulders and proceeded to Venice Beach to shoot street photos. Later the following day, when we went to process our film and make prints at the darkroom, we found on the drying rack somebody else’s images of us. In hindsight, this is pretty creepy. But at the time, I recall being struck by what a small world this is (a feeling I still get when I travel).

I learned that day that, while there’s ample subject matter available at home if I’m willing to look around for it, there are some shots that I can only capture in unfamiliar conditions.

These days, our family gets to travel quite a bit. As I look back through our past adventures, I find that on each trip we take, I practice and integrate a new skill into my photographs. Perhaps this is because travel photography is such an immersive experience — every moment, everywhere we go, I have a camera over my shoulder, ready for the next once-in-a-lifetime shot.

In Mexico, I learned why I actually love shooting in full sun.

In Hawaii, I learned about committing to getting to the perfect spot, and a did a deep dive on night photography (which I’d never had the courage to really dive into previously).

In Scotland, I learned about the magic of golden hour and post-processing pano shots.

In Iceland, I committed to light chasing, and being patient and dedicated while waiting for exactly the right magic moment even when I’m jet-lagged.

This year, our family has just returned from three weeks in South Africa. (If you’ve never been, run, do not walk, to South Africa. I do not have enough good things to say about this place.)
As with any other trip, I learned some new skills behind the lens on this adventure. First, I learned that, if at all possible, it serves me well to hire a guide or at least inquire of locals about their knowledge of the area. On our way into Kruger National Park, I kept shouting at my husband to pull our car over so I could take pictures. He insisted that we proceed with haste to our guides on the other side of the park (“But there’s a giraffe RIGHT THERE!"). As much as it pains me to say this, my husband was right. Every photograph I took from our car was culled from my final galleries. They couldn’t hold a candle to the vantage points and subject matter I got when we were with our professional guides.

I also experimented a LOT with shooting video on this trip (more on this later)! I’ve never spent much time shooting video, and I can say that I did not return from Africa a videographer. I did, however, come back with a new interest to pursue from behind my camera.

Most importantly, today travel photography teaches me that, while there are new skills to be learned while out there exploring, I have everything I need right here at home! I’m reminded that immersive learning experiences are available to me in my daily life so long as I pick up my camera and shoot; that I don’t have to be somewhere far off to master new techniques; that truly my favorite subject matter, anywhere on the planet, is the connection that humans share with one another, and the beautiful art they become as they simply move through their daily lives; and that our greatest journey together starts wherever we are.