INDIA 2000
So it was to be, only 5 years after my last visit to India I was to return! What a 5 years that had been. Since my last visit to India, I graduated from Nottingham Trent University with a collection of images from India 1995. Printing them on Ilford fibre based paper in the lab at Uni. Spending a month in the red mist of the darkroom, dodging & burning to get the prints looking the best I could. We used to use multigrade paper which allowed you to develop certain areas of the print with more contrast to the others. Using lollipops cut out of card we would dodge & burn specific areas of the print to hold back or make darker the areas we wanted during the exposure. It was a great process and one I am glad to have learnt and understood. After achieving a 2/1 degree in photography the big wide world beckoned and so we left university.
What then? No job offers, no guidance. No idea! £20k in debt from uni and what to do? So I got a brief job in a kitchen as a kitchen hand, then in a sports shop. Needless to say I didn’t last too long as my mind and hopes for the future always raised their head. So, sitting in a coffee shop in Nottingham with my good friend Cameron, flicking through a newspaper and saw an advert in the back of the paper. “ Cruise ship Photographers wanted to work in the Caribbean! “ Surely worth a punt I thought. So , 4 days later I found myself on a national express coach to London for the interview at Gatwick Airport - Hilton Hotel. A certain Malcolm Haddock from Image in Miami was sat in a room doing the interviews. Here I was toting my uni portfolio! Little did I know. He asked me a few questions, said “ you’ll do great out there, when can you start?!” So it was , the deal was done.
11 days later I found myself heading for the airport with the family in tow to see me off, boarding a plane for the lights of Miami!
{ I will save the Miami story for another day and what a story that one is! }
So , back to the year 2000. I had finally decided that after 6 years on the ships in Miami that that was enough and it was time to unleash myself on the world! Not so easy! So it was that I planned another trip to India. This time I would be by myself and it would be for approx 60 days, travelling on trains from Delhi - Agra - Gujerat - Mumbai & finishing in Goa. It was my first big trip since I had been to the Amazon in 1996 ( another piece to write about! ) More importantly this was my first trip alone. I was sure I could do it but there would be no-one watching my back this time. Not that India is a dangerous place or as dangerous as anywhere else but there are times especially if you go off the beaten track that it’s wise to have someone that’s going to miss you.
After spending the last 6 years at sea in the Caribbean , Miami, Alaska , Panama to name but a few places it certainly took me a few days to get used to being in India once again and the different way of life in every way. I remember getting ready for the trip and having to decide whether to take just BW film & or Colour Slide Film. After my first trip to India having taken only BW film I decided that the colour of India was too much to miss this time. So I loaded up with 30 rolls of Kodak Ektachrome, some Fuji Reala and packed my rucksack and off I went to the airport, if anything, excited but a little apprehensive about the trip.
New Delhi
This trip lasted for 42 days, this post is a streamlined version of the what I wrote in my diary at the time. If you haven’t read my 1995 trip please click here
After a 9 hour flight I arrived in New Delhi. Collecting my bag, the smells, the sounds of the outside all came flooding back to me. Evoking memories of my trip 5 years previously. I made my way outside to a 100 offers of a taxi. Looking like I knew what I was doing was key in India, I learnt this the hard way last time so I headed for the bus stand which the locals took. 5 minutes later I was on a bus on my way into the bustling, beating heart of the city. It was late, most flights get in quite late. I think it was around 9pm so I was pretty tired. I got to the hotel and remember falling fast asleep straight away. I didn’t wake up until 1pm the following day! Woken by the beeping of horns and noise in the street. Jet lag is also a player to begin with and you have to get your body set as quickly as you can. Different to my last trip I had tried my best to plan an agenda. I got dressed and went downstairs to see if I could get any food and drink. Bottled water then was hard to come by as you were never sure if it was recycled! So I stuck to soda when I could. Not great for the teeth but trustworthy. After getting Delhi-Belly last time I was adamant not to this time. My trip was due to last for 60 days and the plan was to spend some time in Delhi, Agra then over to Alang in Gujerat where I was going to try and get into the largest ship breakers yard in the world! Then over to Goa for a week on the beach. Then to Bombay seeing what I could find on route, all on the trains. Indian trains are a world unto themselves and you’ve never really seen the true India if you don’t spend some time on the trains.
This image was a self portrait taken on my first few nights in the hotel in Delhi. Im not sure what face I’m pulling though! Don’t forget this was all film , slide film so I didn’t get too many shots of myself. I think i took a little pocket camera with me as well as my main camera for little shots like this but I can only find one roll of negative film ( I’m sure I have the rest somewhere. )
Kit wise I took my Leica R8 - 28mm - 24-70mm & a flash gun that sat on top of the hot shoe. I didn’t discover true off camera flash until 2008. I took a cheap waist bag from a sports outlet, and my trusty food flask which had come with me 5 yeas previous ( to hold my film if you haven’t read my 95 trip! )
I remember my first morning out of the hotel and into the streets, the familiar sights & sounds & smells of India came flooding back to me. I walked to an open square of grass to sit and contemplate the journey ahead. I remember a guy coming up to me asking me if I wanted my ears cleaning! As he produced two very large wax sticks from a bag. I remembered a similar experience in 95 so I passed on the offer. The streets are filled with every mode of transport you could think of, motorbikes, rickshaws ( motorbike or cycle), buses, bikes, cars, donkeys, cows, handcarts, you name it, it’s there. This soup of an environment takes some time to get used to. Having drawn on my experience earlier in the 90’s I kind of knew what to expect and drew on that to give me a head start. Walking the streets with a camera isn’t easy but it gets easier. You think everyone is looking at you & yes they are! But it gets easier, I took a motorised rickshaw and headed over to the Red Fort, built in 1638 as a former residence of the Mughal Emperors. I thought as there would be a lot of tourists there as there were it and it would take the pressure off the first day of shooting. It was a good move and I spent most of the day there until dusk, looking at the architecture and slowly building up to approaching people with my camera. I often feel this way when out with the camera. I can’t just run in like a bull in a china shop. I have to take my time and do it at a pace that I am happy with. Until I get to a point where my confidence is high and I am starting to shoot the kind of images I came to shoot. Of course shooting on slide film I had no way of checking what I had shot, ) unlike the 2008 trip to India where it was 100% digital). This is not a bad thing as I am of the school of getting it right in camera so as I shoot I am building a mental note of all frames that worked!
Walking around the parks just gave the me a little more freedom in the beginning to take shots. Just getting the confidence back and getting used to composition after a few weeks not taking any pictures. I had my Leica R8 - film camera & 50mm on for this image.
After a couple of days In Delhi, I booked an early morning train to Uttar Pradesh to visit the Taj Mahal. Having been there 5 years ago I still wanted to go there , wanting to shoot it a little differently this time.
On a motorised rickshaw weaving through the streets in New Delhi. An experience in itself, the fastest way to get around for sure.
Agra
This passage from my diary describes the trip….
“I arrived at the Taj at about 5.45am after a train journey from Delhi of around 2 hours. Staying in a local guest house that night before. You could actually see the Taj Mahal from the roof! At 6am the gates opened, I paid my R505 - last time I was here it was R60! Inflation I guess!
As it happened , surprisingly I was the first person into the grounds and had a perfect unadulterated view of the Taj before the coach loads arrived! I tried to look for a different way to photograph it , not easy but I tried. I chose instead to do some close-ups, in & out of focus shots . I thunk they worked well, I hope anyway? I stayed for around 2 1/2 hours until the temperature & crowds became too much. I am going to return tomorrow but find a different way to shoot the Taj Mahal.
So here we are , I say ‘we’ as I met a German guy called Mika in the lodge last night. He’s a good a laugh and he’s travelling around the world on a motorbike. We decided to walk a few miles up the river bank to cross the bridge to get to the back of the Taj. We walked for about 90 mins but were rewarded with a great view of one of the wonders of the world. It was well worth it despite our thirst! We sat down by this large straw wall rising up from the river bank. When these kids came running up to us, “ 1 rupees, 100 rupees, chocolate , pen “ they shouted! We told them we were thirsty . We would pay them when they got back with any beverage! Let’s just say we weren’t greatly prepared for our walk that day! The kids ran off, bounding over the fence and into the fields beyond! So we sat there, not expecting to see them again, in the 90f heat! 30 mins later they appeared, sweating, panting and carrying 4 bottles of ice cold ‘ thumbs up’ ( india coke) ! We couldn’t believe it and were very grateful. We gave them the money for the drinks and more for themselves for there wonderful service! I could have drunk the water from the Yamuna River which we were sat on the banks of I was that thirsty!
We decided to stay where we were for a couple more hours until sunset , wanting to get the best shot. At 6pm the sun hit the horizon and then ... yes the kids turned up again! Having great fun jumping into or frames. Which was at first a little annoying and then I thought, no amazing! Let them jump! After 15 or so frames the sun went down. We then saw a man in boat and paid him R40 to row us across the river to the back of the Taj and we jumped out in the grounds of the Taj just before it shut for the night! ”
— brett - diary post - 2000
Legend has it that the Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan, who built the Taj in 1653 as a mausoleum for his wife is said to have also been planning to build a black Taj across the Yamuna River mirroring the Taj Mahal but in Black Marble. What a site that would of been. Ruins of blackened marble across the river seemed to support this legend but I guess we will never know! One thing is for sure it is an awe inspiring place and no matter how many times you visit it it gives you something else. Just get there as early as you can or try and cross the river!
After leaving Agra, and parting ways with Mika, my German friend ( he was meeting me in Varanasi but would take a few days to get there on his bike) I headed east to Varanasi. A journey of around 700kms and would take around 12 hours on the train.
Varanasi
Here I take up my diary entry for March 2000
“After leaving Agra, I made my way to Varanasi. It was a long and quite uneventful journey to be honest. We got stuck in a tunnel for two hours - that was the highlight! The train arrived in Varanasi station at 11.30pm - 4 hours late which for an Indian train is pretty good! I left the station and was bombarded by hords of rickshaw wallers - I got inside one and asked to go to Schindia Guest House. He said ‘ sorry, it’s too far and probably full, but I can take you to another place.”! ”
This was a well know ploy of rickshaw drivers , who got paid a commission if they took you to certain establishments. The diary continues…..
“I didn’t play ball and got out much to his despair. I took another one, only this was a cycle rickshaw and it took me around 2 hours through the tiny streets , hot & smelly, of the old town to find the guest house. I was seriously tired when we got there and so was my taxi cyclist! I paid him triple for his efforts and made my way into the dark guest house. It was roughly 3am and the room was ok, paying around R250 ( £4 ) a night. I had a sleep for a few hours then was woken by drums , music & chanting coming from the opposite side of the hotel facing the river. The guest house was right on the Scindia Ghat on the banks of the river Ganges, making it easier when I got up at dawn to get to the river. As it was 5.30 am by now I thought ok, I’ll get up. I wandered down to the river banks where there were people praying, banging drums and lighting candles. I took a couple of pictures and then decided to find the burning ghat where they burn their dead. Carrying a camera was a big mistake! I ended up being threatened by two men with knives who wanted my camera - so I ran as fast as I could into the backstreets.”
— brett - diary post 2000
Looking back now it was very naive of me to go anywhere near the burning ghats with a camera and I regretted it for along time. Going back in 2008 we had learnt a lesson and left them in the hotel. But in 95 it was a different story so I guess I wasn’t sure which way it would go.
This image was taken in 1995 when I shot BW. Showing one of the smaller burning ghats. We had permission to shoot for 5 mins from the men on the hill on the left. So I guess I thought it would be similar on this trip, not to be. I knew better than to try again in 2008. The ghats, especially the burning ghats are a place like no other on earth. When we did go back having met up again with Mika, we just sat there and stayed very quiet with eyes on us all the time but I knew it was a place I needed to go back too to just see. The burning ghat or Manikarika is the place where the majority of dead bodies are cremated in Varanasi. Approx 28,000 every year. Hindus believe it will liberate them from the cycle of death & rebirth. Varanasi is the only city in India where pyres burn 24 hours a day, seven days a week. The city is believed to be so sacred, the demand for funerals is high. I once read an account of Varanasi by Photographer Peter McBride and I couldn’t say it any better myself…
“When you step off a wooden boat onto the banks of the burning ghat in the oldest of India’s cities and you weave through a maze of funeral pyres, hissing, steaming and spitting orange embers into an inky night and you feel the metronome clang of bells vibrating inside your chest and a wave of furnace-like heat consuming everything in its reach. You realise how removed you truly are from the ritual of death.I stepped on to Varanasi’s famous ghat which runs 24/7 , burning 100’s of bodies in plain sight. It dawned on me how physically distant most of us are from the departed. In the west, the dead are typically hidden, taken away - either to be beautified for a funeral or to be cremated, depending on beliefs. Either way, bodies are rarely seen again. Some might argue it is civilzed, cleaner or perhaps just emotionally easier. Or perhaps it is just the modern world’s subtle way of hiding from the inevitable.The hindus believe that if a deceased ashes are laid in the Ganges at varanasi, thieir soul will be transported to heaven and escape the cycle of rebirth. The holier the place , the better the chances you acheive Moksha and avoid returning to earth as a cow or cricket in your next life. ”
— Pete Mcbride
My diary continues….
“After realising that it was impossible to sleep on the hotel at the river banks, Mika & I moved to a part of the new town - only a few 100 metres inland. Hotel Buddah was our destination. A nice relaxing place, with a garden. I stayed in the ‘shed’ with mika for R60 a night ( 95p) A couple of days passed and we got ready for Holi. Holi is India’s coming of Spring festival. On Holi eve we walked the streets down to the river. They were packed, you could hardly move. I took a few shots. I decided beforehand to buy some indian clothes to better our chances against the paint throwers the day after. We’d be lucky! I bought this long knee length shirt and a scarf to wrap around my head for R60. The night was good and we came across groups of men & boys dancing and singing everywhere. I had to use my flash on camera, I hope I was using it properly as I think I might have left the shutter open too long and got a little too much movement but all will be revealed I guess. On Holi day we wrapped ourselves , ready for what?! Mika was up for it, making 6 bottles of liquid paint to use so we could give as good as we got! I was a little more cautious. I couldn’t decide to take my Leica or not or just take my compact. I wrapped it in plastic bags and it came with me although I hardly used it, getting my compact out instead! We departed through the doors of the hotel with shouts of ‘ good luck ‘ coming from other travellers staying in the safety of the hotel. We should have thought about that a little more! We had been in the streets which were deserted of traffic, women, even cows weren’t present, it was like they knew what was coming.
5 minutes passed when we received our first covering of paint. Kids from a rooftop, easy way I guess so we couldn’t get them back. We walked straight into the mouth of the tiger.....a group of around 50-70 men ran at us trying to tear off our clothes. They tore Mikas shirt from his body exposing his skin which they soon turned a bright purple.I managed to keep my clothes but took a blast of purple right in my face & eye! Purple apparently being the hardest colour to remove & probably saved for tourists. We stopped for a breath by some policemen who were also covered in paint( no-one escaped that night.) Some of the guys were quite violent, high on a mixture of drugs and alcohol they had been taking for some days previous. I was quite apprehensive about carrying on because of my camera but we did. After another couple of hours and much hiding in doorways it came to the end of the festival. Everyone ended up to the river scrubbing off the paint that was covering everywhere. Someone should have told Mika as he walked around using the paint he had left to get his revenge on now cleaner men & boys. With shouts and gestures that this part of the ceremonies had finished he emptied his paint pots. To the happiness of himself but to the anger of the locals! I took a few shots of the paint splattered locals. We then headed back, wounded and bright purple back to the hotel. We arrived to a scene of carnage as a few others had braved the event and the lobby was a wash with travellers of different colours from purple to pink and orange! Thank god I brought my scrubbing brush with me as I had to get Mika to scrub my back and I think he took off 4 layers of skin!
”
— brett - diary post - 2000
This is the actual note pad I took with me on that trip. A reminder as to how to shoot and things to incorporate!
Holi is a popular ancient Hindu festival, also known as the Indian "festival of spring", the "festival of colours", or the "festival of love". The festival signifies the victory of good over evil. It originated and is predominantly celebrated in India, but has also spread to other regions of Asia and parts of the Western world through the diaspora from the Indian subcontinent.
Holi celebrates the arrival of spring, the end of winter, the blossoming of love, and for many it's a festive day to meet others, play and laugh, forget and forgive, and repair broken relationships.The festival also celebrates the beginning of a good spring harvest season. It lasts for a night and a day, starting on the evening of the Purnima (Full Moon day) falling in the Hindu calendar month of Phalguna, which falls around middle of March in the Gregorian calendar.
I look back on the slides now, 20 years later and I didn’t really shoot much at the Holi event. I think I was so scared of ruining my camera for the rest of the trip which it probably would have done I shied away from taking pictures! Crazy when I think now.. if I was to go now I would take an old body with me just for this!
Gujerat
After saying my goodbyes and reflecting with Mika on our little adventure in Varanasi we parted ways as he was headed to Mumbai and I to the shipyards of Gujerat in North Western India. So it was , back on a train… After chatting to some locals onboard for a few hours, you can’t get your bunk down until everyone agrees! It was time for bed. As far as the trip planning went it wasn’t the best way to do things as Gujerat was a 36 hour train ride from Varanasi but I knew that due to my date of arrival that I wanted to go to Varanasi for Holi and then spend the last half of my trip in Gujerat and the shipyards. So yes not the best route as I should have gone to Gujerat from Delhi but it just worked out that way. I was then due to go back to Delhi and get an internal flight to Goa to see my friend John from the ships and a few days of R&R on the beach.
Anyway , back on the train diary….
“Around 5am I awoke, I think by then my body was alerted by the motionless train. My curiosity got the better of me and i got off my bunk and walked to the door of the train, where i jumped out onto the tracks. There were many people out and about, I asked one guy, “what is wrong with the train?” “ engine dead” came the reply. No shit I thought as I approached the front of the train to find half of the engine in bits on the track! Just my luck! Amazingly, 3 hours later the train started to move. You have to give the Indian people there dues as they can get anything to work with a bit of grease and a spanner! Waking for breakfast on an Indian train is also something to behold. I’d say it was around 9.30. The train had been going again for over an hour and it was now way past getting up time. Going through the carriage were a boy and man, selling omelettes with peas. Reluctantly I paid my money and took two. I have to say it was the best omelette I’ve had for ages! I also had three cups of tea and got ready for another day onboard the train. The day went quite fast , surprisingly and I spent a lot of it sat by the window looking out at the countryside and taking it all in. Numerous conversations with locals and travellers on the train. Praying that the train didn’t break down again and would get to Gujerat on time.”
— brett diary post - 2000
So here I was in Gujerat , western India on the border with Pakistan. Only 40 hours aboard the train! I was desperate for the hotel and a lie down. The train bunk was not the best way to travel for so long. The main reason for visiting here was to try and get into the shipyards. I’d heard of the ship breaking yards some years before whilst looking through a copy of National Geographic magazine. Realising how hard it was to get into the yards for anyone. I knew my quest to shoot here wasn’t going to be easy. Gujerat had a different vibe to the rest of India, Ahmedabad was the town I arrived in. I cant remember what time it was but it must have been late afternoon. I fell into bed and didn’t get out until the following day! I awoke with a startle, I remember this as I nearly fell out of bed. I searched around for my watch to see what time it was. It was early so I got up. Making the most of my time here was key to getting some good photography in. After wandering through the busy but not crazy streets I saw a crowd of people queuing to buy tickets so I wandered over. It was a circus. Little did I know all those years ago that this is where my love for photographing circus performers would start ( not animals, I must stress that!)
A few images from the circus visit..
The Shipyard - Alang - Bhavnagar
So after a day or two taking it easy and seeing what I could find I decided to have a go at getting into the shipyard. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, maybe not possible at all and I had come a long way to try and shoot there. I wasn’t going to give up easily. I took a rickshaw to one of the main gates , after talking to the guards I was told that under no circumstances was I going to be allowed to shoot here. I was told to leave.. so I did.
Spending the rest of the day wondering what I could do……
The next I woke early and headed for a different gate. After talking to the guards on the gate I managed to meet the soldier in charge , an older gentleman. Indian Navy World War 2 veteran in his mid 80’s. It wasn’t going to be easy to get in here and then I had a stroke of genius. I pulled from my wallet a picture that I carried always ( and do too this day ) of my grandfather during the war in the Merchant Navy. Upon seeing this, the man saluted me & said “anyone who fought alongside us during the war is welcome “ and allowed me to enter the beach area. I thank my grandad to this day and miss him dearly. When I told him in 2000 of the story he said, ‘well done son, you used your nouse!’
Then came the killer blow, there was one condition, that we only photographed the ships , not the workers. I agreed. I knew that if I got in there they might soften up a little and I could get a few portraits. If you’ve never seen the ship breaking yards it’s something to behold. Huge 70,000 ton cruise ships & ferries from all over the world. Coming here to their final resting place. How ironic that whilst writing this post that the very ship I worked on for 6 years in Miami has gone to its final resting place, I believe a breakers yard in Turkey. Sad end for some great memories and a big chapter of my life.
I have to say it was a hard experience as there were eyes watching at every step, watching what I was shooting. It made it hard to incorporate anyone into the framing but whilst their heads were turned I managed to take a few images of the ships but finding people in there also. I knew if I pushed my luck it would ruin the moment and permission I had to be there. So at one point I suggested that we do a team shot of some of the men, this went down very well with the workers and after this the major ( as he wanted to be called ) seemed to let me do a little more than what was agreed on. It was a day and experience I will treasure forever. It’s funny when I think about it how I remember such things that I did 20 years ago. The diary has helped immensely in recalling times and events that might have slipped my mind. It’s almost as if the process of taking a photograph freezes the moment in your brain and soul. I stayed for around 2 hours, it was sweltering and I shot around 4 rolls of slide film. I had a little flash for the Leica, a Metz which gave me some fill in close up but not enough power to light the shadows in the harsh light.
One of my favourite images, showing the true scale of the yard and the ships that are beached there to be broken up.
10 men carrying a piece of steel from one of the ships being dismantled, you can only imagine how heavy this must have been in 90f heat all day long.
A truly amazing experience that I will never forget. I would love to go back to this breakers yard now armed with a medium format - lights & ND filters to kill the light. I guess I’ll have to be content with this for now and the memories of it. I remember that night writing in my diary .. here is a little…
“wow, I have just got back from the shipyard, yes I managed to get in!! it wasn’t easy but I got in as that was the main objective of this trip. What a place. I hope I did it justice because it wasn’t easy. I am too tired to write the whole story but the people were very kind. 1000’s of men, women and children scurry around in conditions that we in the western world wouldn’t be allowed to work in. Everything comes off the ships and is reused or sold, everything. It is place truly straight from hell as far as the conditions go but I cannot change that , only document it”
— brett - diary post 2000
I left Gujerat the following day and made my way back to Delhi where I was to catch an internal flight to Goa, to meet my friend John, who had worked on my team in the USA and to have a few days to myself on the beach. After meeting John at the airport, we headed out for a drink and a walk on the beach. It was great to catch up with him and share our stories of India and working together in Miami.
We headed for a local market one day when I noticed a poster of a ship hanging on the wall, ahhh the irony.. it wasn’t my ship but very similar , hence the picture! After 5 days in Goa, reflecting upon my trip and future ( took a flight from Mumbai to London and got the train back to Manchester).
It was a great trip all in all and I was happy at the time with the images I got. Having been on ships for 6 years and now free in the world it was also a trip to find my next step in life. To find my way as a photographer. I had waiting for me in the UK Kristie, a girl I had met on the ships a couple of years earlier. We were about to embark on the next chapter of our lives and the adventures that would lead us to this day + 2 fabulous children.
I’ll be honest, I didn’t think I would become a wedding or portrait photographer but everything happens for a reason. We have had a great 20 years at the top of the industry and long may it last. Maybe my days of portraiture & travel will resurface and my love for location, creative lighting will give a different twist on my portraiture.
What a great mix that would be for sure. I’ll finish off with the final diary post, written sitting on the floor in the airport….
“So here I am , sat on the floor of the airport with a packet of nutrichoice digestives and a bottle of water ( my dinner for tonight) This time last night I was sitting on the beach, eating fish & garlic and listening to the waves crashing on the shore. How strange it is.
It always makes you reflect on your trip when you come to its end. I know it’s not been a very long one but it’s certainly been one of mixed and varying emotions. I really did find it hard the first few days. Things got easier, time stood still. In a way I relished that because it feels as if I have already lived a year in this year and its the end of March only. Although the rest of it will fly, I don’t think the flight will go fast enough. India is a mad, smelly, chaotic place with a hidden structure that remains invisible to those who do not look deep enough.
It frustrates you and excites you on the same level and you never know which way the coin will land. Spending a little time in Goa at the end is almost an injustice. It took me away from the real India and into this clean, tourist haven. Maybe it’s not a bad way to end for myself as I have seen the real India. The two halves are however a world apart. As for how the photography has gone, maybe I could have done better. I guess I will always say that. When I am shooting I have to be alone to truly feel connected to the place I am in. I hope I get to come here again with different eyes when I am older but the same me.”
— brett - diary post - April 2000
