He was born and raised here, but said, “There’s nothing to take photos of here. I’ve looked everywhere.”

The more I head out into the Nebraska countryside, often to the same places, the more I disagree with him.

There’s something truly special about many of these places, and I recently went on a single-day trip through a few small communities.

I want to take you along for the ride.

EXETER

The first stop: an old school in Exeter, Nebraska.

Exeter has a population over 500, and is one of a string of towns named by the Burlington railroad in alphabetical order (along with Crete, Dorchester, Fairmont, Grafton, Harvard, Inland, Juniata and Kenesaw).

I took a few photos of the old high school while here. (Photographers: all the photos here were mostly shot with my iPhone using the mood.camera app, but I’ve got a few Fujifilm GFX shots mixed in here too, because why not).

The most famous person out of Exeter graduated here: Jeff Zeleny, who went on to win a Pulitzer Prize while reporting for the Chicago Tribune.

Before I left, I grabbed one quick shot of the business district:

GRAFTON

Not far from Exeter is Grafton, Nebraska, with a population of around 100:

I only shot a few photos of the high school, which is quite a large school for a place that was never very big. It’s now on the National Register for Historic Places.

This 1914 structure replaced an older schoolhouse, and the robust education offered here was meant to recruit students from the surrounding area.

A peek inside through the window:

I’ve seen a lot of these old high schools, and this school is REALLY big for how small Grafton is.

HEARTWELL

The town of Heartwell, Nebraska (population of around 80) is one I’ve never been to before, and it was a wonderful find:

Named after a Nebraska state senator, James B. Heartwell, this town doesn’t have much of a “business” district any longer.

The party’s pretty much over in Heartwell.

I talked to a town local, who said most of the buildings were burned down or damaged in fires over the years. He was in the process of fixing up this old schoolhouse/church into his residence.

I love small-town humor:

The Catholic church is still active.

Heartwell was also photographed back in the day by legendary photographer Arthur Rothstein:

Rothstein is famous for his work as a depression-era documentary photographer, and the man behind this iconic “Fleeing a Dust Storm” photograph taken in Oklahoma:

It’s kind of cool to see a historic photographer walking the same steps I took!

MASON CITY

Last stop on today’s small-town express is a fantastic place called Mason City, Nebraska.

About 150 people live here, and it’s got some incredible small-town charm.

There’s some cool history here. In the early 1900’s, the Harvest Homecoming Celebration drew crowds nearly 20,000 strong, and politicians of the time made it a must-stop campaign event.

Mason City also boasts having one of the oldest community bands in Nebraska that seems to be active to this day.

The town is an interesting mix of beautiful and broken.

Pure nightmare fuel:

P.S. - If you’re getting this, you’re probably already subscribed to my newsletter, but please share this with any photography enthusiasts who are looking for inspiration, tips and a positive photo community (no judgement here)!

And as always, send me any questions you have or topics you’d like to see me cover in upcoming newsletters or YouTube videos (you can subscribe here).

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I thought the best photos were the ones on the magazine covers and contest winners, and I so badly wanted a “cover-worthy” photo. Just like everybody else.

It’s only taken more decades to realize that perfect sharpness and $4,000 lenses aren’t keys to “great” photography, and being like everyone else is just boring.

So lately, I’ve been in enamored with an almost objectively “bad” lens: the 75mm f/1.5 TTArtisan that I converted to fit my GFX 100s.

The GFX 100s is a beast: 100 megapixels of pure megapixel glory. With the right lenses, the information it captures in even the smallest details is unreal. It’s designed to be used with the best lenses produced to capture razor-sharp, world-class shots all day long.

And when I first bought the camera, I spent more than $10,000 on the best possible lenses. On a trip to Minnesota, the GFX 100s and those ultra-expensive (and heavy) lenses produced solid, incredibly sharp and contrasty images:

But I don’t “love” any of them. They’re too perfect. Too sharp. Too boring.

However, I also randomly took along the super-cheap 75mm f/1.5 TTArtisan, manual-focus lens I found for under $300. I wasn’t expecting much at all. I just wanted to experiment and see what the photos would look like.

I got back to my hotel room one night and started looking through all my photos, and then I came across this one. HOLY WOW:

(All the photos from here until the end of the newsletter are from the GFX100s and TTArtisan 75mm f/1.5.)

I stopped and stared at that photo for a bit. Could this TTArtisan photo actually be any good?

On one hand, it’s a totally messed-up photo. Yeah, it’s 100 megapixels… but it’s not 100 megapixels of “sharpness.” Even the leaf is slightly blurry, either from the lens being soft or because I missed the focus a little bit (easy to do with this having razor-think depth-of-field).

On the other hand, it was the only photo out of hundreds of other shots that made me look at it for longer than a second or two. It’s a photo that still makes look twice, a few years later.

Sharp or not, that’s meaningful.

Still, when it was time to show the client my work, I barely put any of these shots from the TTArtisan in the portfolio. I didn’t think the designers looking at the project would think they were “sharp” enough, and I thought they might think they are a little weird (they are).

After that Minnesota trip, I put the lens in the cabinet and… almost forgot about it.

But this year I’m pushing myself to be different, and I remembered that lens and its unique rendering characteristics.

How times have changed - I WANT THE WEIRD STUFF NOW!

So, I fired up my dusty GFX, slapped on the 75mm f/1.5 (literally electrical-taped to the converter mount), and headed out to the garden. I put vaseline on the filter in places (at the edges), and did my best to let light flood into its lens elements by shooting at various angles.

What I got is a stunning new series of photos I’m naming:

My vision for these is for my final selects for the project to be printed the size of a wall. I’m thinking 8-10 feet on the large size.

This series is all about ethereal gardens as places of imagination.

Simple fields of grass become dream-like, all fitting into the idea of what flowers might “see” when they close their petals in the absence of sunlight. I know science can explain this process and tell me that plants can’t dream - but I’m choosing to view the world with more “child-like” eyes lately.

It’s both artistic expression and mental-health exercise.

My goal is to keep photographing new flowers with this lens and editing style.

I’ll also be printing some of these on watercolor paper so I can actually, physically, learn how to paint on my photographs. Creating one-of-a-kind works of art is something I’d love to experiment with.

On many of these, you’d never be able to see some of my painted details on a computer screen. These are meant to be experienced large and in REAL FREAKING LIFE.

It’s amazing how many of these look like paintings even without doing much in editing. This next one is a photo that’s almost a straight-out-of-camera jpeg (I just lowered the contrast):

Finding ways to work with the fun lens characteristics to make dreamy images has been fun, and a challenge.

All of my drawings-on-photos were done with ProCreate on the iPad. These are sketches and experiments… my interpretation of small mystical worlds.

I know not all of these work. Some are heavy-handed. But I’m still having fun and creating interesting things.

What about YOU? Do you have any flawed, weird, or crazy lenses that you’ve put aside or forgotten about? If so - go out and see how using it might expand your creative photography mindset!

P.S. - If you’re getting this, you’re probably already subscribed to my newsletter, but please share this with any photography enthusiasts who are looking for inspiration, tips and a positive photo community (no judgement here)!

And as always, send me any questions you have or topics you’d like to see me cover in upcoming newsletters or YouTube videos (you can subscribe here).

More than anything, even if you don’t purchase a print, subscribing to my YouTube channel, watching some videos, and leaving me a comment about what you think is a great, free, way to support me!

Comments? Leave them below or email me: jerredz@gmail.com

The crisp, dry A/C feels great, and television shows can be a little too tempting.

So it felt nice for us to get out of the house and go on a little adventure from Omaha to Des Moines.

(All photos - except a few noted at the end - taken with iPhone 17 Pro using the mood.camera app.)

It’s a 130-mile trip into Iowa that takes a quick 2 hours to complete. We didn’t have much of a plan, except to eventually make our way to Mainframe Studios for their First Friday art event.

We found ourselves first at the Des Moines Art Center. This place was wonderful to explore.

I forget how important it is for us as photographers to seek out and experience truly great art, from classic paintings and sculptures to entire architectural constructions, like the museum itself.

All the angles here weren’t just made to inhabit people - they were made to inspire them.

I was pretty sure this thing was going to come alive and get me:

While art galleries are made to inspire us to think, malls were designed to get us to buy. Here, in Des Moines, the Valley West Mall doesn’t have much to purchase.

But that doesn’t mean were didn’t have a blast exploring the well-kept, but definitely creepy, environment.

Many of the bigger plants are real, kept alive with wonderful natural light.

This is one of the saddest play areas I’ve ever seen. And kind of horrifying, as if it were designed by someone without emotions and who has never met children before.

The natural light and real trees are so amazing. But in the context of nearly everything being shut down, the vibe of the place was more slightly-ominous than calming.

And finally, we made it to our destination and saw more cool art. I didn’t take many photos at Mainframe Studios, mostly because it was so busy it was hard to move around. That’s good though. It meant people were out supporting the arts!

I liked this display from a local Des Moines photographer:

I really wanted this. I’m a big NIN fan:

I took these with an old 1970’s-era 135mm f/3.5 Minolta on a Nikon Z6iii, just to test it out. I like how it renders!

The last shot of the day, as I gassed up for our way home:

Each photo here is connected to a story in my head. My wife’s laughter, my son ignoring me with his headphones on, the chaotic sound of too many people jammed into small spaces, and my jaw hurting because I’m smiling so much.

P.S. - If you’re getting this, you’re probably already subscribed to my newsletter, but please share this with any photography enthusiasts who are looking for inspiration, tips and a positive photo community (no judgement here)!

And as always, send me any questions you have or topics you’d like to see me cover in upcoming newsletters or YouTube videos (you can subscribe here).

More than anything, even if you don’t purchase a print, subscribing to my YouTube channel, watching some videos, and leaving me a comment about what you think is a great, free, way to support me!

Comments? Leave them below or email me: jerredz@gmail.com

I heard: why are you wasting your time on this stuff?

He was right, I said to myself: I’m wasting my time!

For a while, I changed what I was shooting and stopped looking for abandoned places.

I’d drive by some really cool old broken down barns, churches or schools, thinking to myself: it’s not worth it if there isn’t money attached to the outcome. Every time I passed a place by, I was crushed.

He wasn’t trying to hurt me, and was only being practical. I have always struggled (still do!) to make money off my photography, so he was trying to be helpful and nudge me in the right direction: take photos people want to buy.

But the question haunted me for a bit. I was paralyzed.

“What are you going to do with all those photos of abandoned stuff?” - his voice kept playing in my head.

I didn’t have a good answer.

Make a book? (That no one would buy.)

Have an art show? (That no one would go to.)

He was saying that abandoned barns, crumbling farmhouses, and collapsed grain elevators weren’t really sellable, and he’s kinda right. Very few people hang decayed houses on their wall. Nobody pays a photographer for shooting things that are falling apart, do they?

I shifted my photography. I started shooting the things I thought I could sell, like pretty flowers.

I was hyper-focused on getting the right light at the right time of day, so I could get those sun-drenched, sellable landscapes.

I was dialed-in to getting the “nicest” photos I could get. Golden hour. Perfect light.

I felt a little off.

I felt like I wasn’t being myself.

The pretty flowers were in focus and the landscapes looked fine, but I was missing something, and going out with my camera far less often.

Photography just wasn’t as much fun.

Abandoned places have always been meaningful to me.

They’re not just interesting textures and dramatic light... they’re stories.

Every collapsed farmhouse was someone’s dream once.

What I’m photographing is the remnants of human effort, hope and frailty.

I’m a photographer because taking photos is the only way I know of to communicate what’s inside me. I do it because I often don’t have words to describe how it feels to be me, and instead of screaming, I take photos.

It’s taken a while to find my way back to embracing these places gain - sales be damned.

And once I got back, almost immediately, I felt at home.

I started planning more and more abandoned trips, always remembering that there would be “pretty” things along the way. (I could get those too!)

I shot this:

On the way to photograph this:

My photography has seriously improved over the past year, and I think it’s because I’m embracing abandonment again. My Google Maps pins are multiplying (these aren’t even close to all of them).

I stopped taking photos for an imaginary buyer and started taking pictures for myself.

It’s been a wonderful lesson for me, and has actually made my “pretty” pictures more interesting. There’s a touch - just a tiny one - of darkness I’m trying to inject in them lately. There’s more “me” in the photos: weirdness and blurry details. Grain and messed-up corners.

I’m delving in deep into who I am. I’m finding the soul of my photography, and channeling everything I am into my photos, which means making them perfectly imperfect.

These incredibly beautiful garden scenes you see below are a little messed up. I’m using vintage, flawed, terribly soft lenses with some wild lens blur (sometimes modified with by putting stuff on my lens filters) and doing my best to find the heart of what I feel when I’m there instead of getting the cleanest, “sellable” photos.

I’m happier now.

Listening to our heart is difficult!

My mentor was right: selling photos of broken-down things isn’t super easy.

I think I’ve probably only sold a few hundred dollars of abandoned photos, EVER, but I was losing my will to go out and make new work by only focusing on pretty stuff.

I (you?) should remember that good mentors give well-meaning, accurate advice, but when that advice turns you into a robot, maybe give it a second thought!

This doesn’t mean ignoring everyone who challenges you, because being uncomfortable is one of the best ways to grow. Hard questions are good, and I absolutely do need to get better at selling my images, no matter what the subject matter.

But the way I took the advice wasn’t making me better. Instead, it was dulling my inner self. I was making my photos look like a million other photos of pretty things.

I’m still taking photos of nature, flowers, and golden-hour landscapes, but instead of the cleanest, most “sellable” photos, I’m gravitating toward this:

This:

This:

This:

And these:

Terribly, wonderfully imperfect, just like me.

Think about a subject you’ve quietly stopped shooting, not because you lost interest, but because the world around you nudged you in a different direction. Maybe your favorite subject matter never gets any Instagram likes. Maybe no one comments on the photos you hold dear to your heart.

Who cares.

Ask the question: who are you as a photographer? Dive into that. Focus on it.

I have always been asking myself what makes me stand out. How can I get images that are different from everyone else’s?

As long as I’m true to myself, I’ll get there. So will you.

So my advice to you:

Shoot what you love this week, even if nobody’s buying it (yet.)

P.S. - If you’re getting this, you’re probably already subscribed to my newsletter, but please share this with any photography enthusiasts who are looking for inspiration, tips and a positive photo community (no judgement here)!

And as always, send me any questions you have or topics you’d like to see me cover in upcoming newsletters or YouTube videos (you can subscribe here).

More than anything, even if you don’t purchase a print, subscribing to my YouTube channel, watching some videos, and leaving me a comment about what you think is a great, free, way to support me!

Comments? Leave them below or email me: jerredz@gmail.com

I find that writing, even if it’s bad, brings me closer to my photos, and allows me to enter the scenes I point my camera at.

When I go back to these places (and I almost always go back), the stories I make up become part of the fabric of how I see the world.

I’ve written a short story below, and I hope you dig it. Also, I’d invite you to do the same - write about a photo of yours you love, and see the world inside the image come alive.

Chapter One: SOMETHING HAPPENED HERE

I walked this small town for a few minutes after I filled up with gas, and took the photo you see above.

As I often do, I stood in the street for a few minutes, imagining the people who used to live here, and the events that took them away.

Soon, an older man with a cane shuffled slowly towards me. He looked like he could be between 40 and 80 years old, all things being equal. People in these places age different.

Men like him are a common sight in nearly-abandoned towns: older people without much to do, keeping watch over the neighborhood. He stood next to me, uncomfortably close, looking at the house.

"Hey, I’m Jerred,” I offered. “I’m a photographer from Omaha.”

He didn't smile or react, and just kept staring at the house. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just looked at the house too.

"Do you know what happened here?" he asked after a few moments, his voice higher-pitched than I expected.

The man leaned heavily on his cane with shaking hands, and and his breathing was ragged. My grandfather had a cane uncannily like his: hand-carved with a deeply polished, mahogany snake head.

"No," I told him. "I just thought it was an interesting house."

The man’s face was serious, his lines sharp. His eyes, though, seemed younger, caught up in a distinct memory from the past.

"Do you mean the floods, is that what happened?" I was just trying to make small talk, and I remembered that this town had been rocked by devastating floods over the years. Many people had left.

He shook his head quickly: an adamant NO.

"It's probably better you don't know," he coughed, seemed frail beyond words for a second, leaning over with his eyes closed. He paused and collected himself. ”You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”

He spat then, almost angrily before turning and walked slowly away. I took a few more photos before deciding to return to my car.

I realized then that others were watching. I could see no one, but the feeling of eyes glaring is unmistakable.

My car.

Where was it again?

I wandered through the streets. Entire neighborhoods were in various states of abandonment.

I could hear screaming in the distance as I walked by this children’s park. It wasn’t a dangerous scream, or a warning. It was a scream someone makes when they lose something precious, something vital.

Was it me? Was I the one screaming?

I stumbled down side streets with the sun reflecting on twisted metal and warming the color of rust.

I searched for a way out, and found only remnants. All the people were gone, even if I could still feel them in the periphery.

The quietness was surreal, and it was more than a lack of sound. It felt more like a void, in that even the sound of my footsteps seemed to be swallowed by the old concrete and shattered glass.

The sun was bright and then it wasn’t, and cool winds prevailed while the sun started to fade. Things were falling apart. The rules governing normal things no longer mattered.

A voice. Then voices, all around me, reaching out from the past.

Was I trapped here, wandering the streets with whispering ghosts?

Maybe wandering these streets is where I’m meant to be. An observer of things lost, forever.

So… what did you think?

I do a lot of writing about my photographs, and I almost never share any of it. Most of the time, it’s meant only for myself, and it’s often really, really bad. Will there be a chapter two someday? Who knows? Who cares!

The creative act, in all its forms, is a lifeline for me, and maybe sharing a bit of my wild and crazy process here and there will help others along the way.

I have no idea what I’m doing, people. I’m just trying to hold on to as much of life as I can, and to create meaningful work.

So, give it a shot. Find a photo you like, or don’t like, and write a story about it.

If you do end up writing something, let me know and share. I’d love to learn more about your world - real or imagined.

P.S. - If you’re getting this, you’re probably already subscribed to my newsletter, but please share this with any photography enthusiasts who are looking for inspiration, tips and a positive photo community (no judgement here)!

And as always, send me any questions you have or topics you’d like to see me cover in upcoming newsletters or YouTube videos (you can subscribe here).

More than anything, even if you don’t purchase a print, subscribing to my YouTube channel, watching some videos, and leaving me a comment about what you think is a great, free, way to support me!

Comments? Leave them below or email me: jerredz@gmail.com

It’s an important goal of mine, to grow the newsletter. I want to build community, and reach others in order for us all to feel less lonely. Consistency is important and showing up is powerful.

But sometimes, our brains don’t work right.

That’s been happening to me one million times more than I thought it would at this point in my life. The ups-and-downs are hard. Letting people down sucks. A few weeks ago I was full of hope, while the last couple of days, hope has seemed distant.

Here I am, with all my dreams having come true (a loving family, great friends, awesome cats, and a life full of the possibility for daily joy).

And instead, my brain is at war with itself.

This small town (in Texas? near Texas?) is a good illustration of what it’s like to peer inside me.

Still standing, but empty.

Full of broken things.

I’ve heard that it’s OK to sit with your sadness.

To recognize it. To honor it. And then to let it go.

So that’s what I’m going to keep learning to do.

The people who lived here moved on.

Because living in the past isn’t always good. Mostly it’s not.

We keep things we shouldn’t. We hold on to useless trinkets, like regret.

So this newsletter might be later in the day than I normally post, but it’s one small step forward, right?

Instead of being paralyzed by the damage I’ve wrought, I have one path:

Let go.

Step forward.

Repeat.

ALL PHOTOS: OM SYTEM OM-3 with the Pana/Leica 15mm f.1.7 (a fantastic combo!)

P.S. - If you’re getting this, you’re probably already subscribed to my newsletter, but please share this with any photography enthusiasts who are looking for inspiration, tips and a positive photo community (no judgement here)!

And as always, send me any questions you have or topics you’d like to see me cover in upcoming newsletters or YouTube videos (you can subscribe here).

More than anything, even if you don’t purchase a print, subscribing to my YouTube channel, watching some videos, and leaving me a comment about what you think is a great, free, way to support me!

Comments? Leave them below or email me: jerredz@gmail.com

We headed to Loess Bluffs National Wildlife Refuge, and Jeremy planned our route. (Not really - it’s a loop, but Jeremy did a good job of studying the information we would need for photographic domination.)

Donna was excited:

I like being in the back seat because I can see more. For this trip, I was the spotter because my new/old shades helped me see better. “LOOK!” I’d yell, and Jeremy would slam the brakes. We make a great trio.

This is what me and my new sunglasses saw (and I haven’t seen Donna and Jeremy’s yet, but they are probably super awesome because I really couldn’t see much with these old, plastic, toy sunglasses):

Lesson 1: Find good friends.

Lesson 2: Find cool shades.

(ALL PHOTOS: OM SYSTEM OM-1 MarkII and OM-3 using the 50-200 f/2.8 IS PRO and the 300 f/4 PRO with the 1.4 teleconverter… except that last shot of the theater, that’s a mood.camera photo from the iPhone.)

P.S. - If you’re getting this, you’re probably already subscribed to my newsletter, but please share this with any photography enthusiasts who are looking for inspiration, tips and a positive photo community (no judgement here)!

And as always, send me any questions you have or topics you’d like to see me cover in upcoming newsletters or YouTube videos (you can subscribe here).

More than anything, even if you don’t purchase a print, subscribing to my YouTube channel, watching some videos, and leaving me a comment about what you think is a great, free, way to support me!

Comments? Leave them below or email me: jerredz@gmail.com

The photos speak to me, and reminded me of why I appreciate OM SYSTEM cameras and lenses. (Note: this isn’t a sponsored post!)

Check out how this gear ALL FITS INTO ONE BACKPACK:

Inside is the OM SYSTEM OM-3, the OM-1 MarkII, the 20mm f/1.4, the 12-45mm f/4 PRO, the 50-200mm f/2.8 IS PRO (the lens I call MEGATRON), and the venerable 300mm f/4 PRO fitted with the 1.4 teleconverter. That gives me a range of 12 - 840mm (full frame terms) in a package so small it all LITERALLY fits in a normal-sized backpack.

None of it matters unless we take some photos, so let’s head out from Omaha to our first stop in Fortescue, Missouri:

HOUR ONE: THE OLD SCHOOL

I can find almost nothing about this old school, but it’s been a pin on my Google Maps for years.

It’s located in Fortescue, Missouri - a tiny town with only four blocks that operated with a post office for almost 90 years, but never had more than 51 people. This school’s size and stature seems to have been a statement: our children deserve this. The future is worth it.

Here, I chose the OM-3 with the 12-45 f/4 PRO using the creative dial to dial-in new settings for many of my shots based on mood and experimentation. (ALMOST all the photos on this page are SOOC jpegs, although slight cropping and quick edits were done in Lightroom.)

I was intent on experimenting with the OM-3’s extensive Monochrome settings (easily accessible with the Creative Dial) and taking some cool, moody shots.

These three illustrate just a few different monochrome looks that I can change in the scene using the creative dial:

The outhouse near the school was a lot of fun to photograph.

These two old trees perfectly framed the outhouse, and the contrast between the dark shadows and distinct bright paint was beautiful.

(From my sparse research, the moon carvings were the symbol used to mark women’s outhouses. It transformed at some point to become a symbol for all outhouses.)

The outhouse was fun to frame up and find a monochrome profile that would work with all the highlights and shadows in the scene.

I did try out some color profiles as well (grain added later since the OM-3 doesn’t, unfortunately, allow us to add grain to color jpegs).

HOUR TWO: THE CEMETERY

Next up, I’m back to my favorite little town of Corning, Missouri. Miraculously, I was able to control myself and only shot two photos in the town, both with the OM-3.

This one, of the old post office and jail:

And this one, showing how overgrown the town is since the last time I visited:

(And this is from a few weeks ago:)

This time I was just passing through as I was interested in the town’s cemetery, across the interstate and built into a hill (to avoid floods).

In the past, the place was so overgrown (and full of ticks) that it was hard to navigate. This is from a few years back:

I drove by and saw that someone had done a controlled burn here, so I could see much more of the cemetery than ever before.

I decided to use the 20mm f/1.4 PRO for these shots, mostly all wide-open.

Walking through a place like this can be humbling and a good reminder of our mortality.

I used the OM-3’s creative dial this time to add a border and Art Filter 16 to the JPEGs. Together, they give me a cohesive, interesting look to tie together the cemetery photos into a unit.

I happened to make a video about the experience here:

HOUR THREE: WILDLIFE REFUGE

I thought I’d just go home at this point, but a wonderful wildlife reserve (Loess Bluffs in Missouri) was only minutes away. Since I had the 50-200 f/2.8 and 300mm f/4 in the bag - why not head out there for an hour?

I’m pretty happy I did because I saw even MORE amazing things.

These White-faced Ibis were circling overhead the entire time. I couldn’t get any details, so I switched to monochrome and leaned into the silhouettes.

This time, the 300mm f/4 PRO (with the 1.4 TC) on the OM-1 MarkII took center stage.

The 300mm with the 1/4 TC gave me an 840mm focal length (full frame equivalent) for these birds that always stay JUST out of reach.

But soon I grabbed the OM-3 with the 50-200mm f/2.8 IS PRO as well and shot with both of these lenses.

The 50-200 f/2.8 IS PRO is, hands down, the best lens I’ve ever used. These are jpegs without an ounce of editing (warmth added in-camera).

I can’t stress that enough - OM SYSTEM has the best JPEGs in the biz. No doubt. These are incredibly rich, vibrant, contrasty and natural. The colors are incredible.

A shot with the 50-200, which is on my left shoulder with the OM-3:

A quick switch to my right shoulder and the OM-1 MarkII with the 300 f/4 PRO and 1/4 TC:

This post isn’t about me trying to convince you to buy OM SYSTEM stuff. It’s about the power finding the “right” camera system is for YOU. I just personally believe too many people pass on this system after hearing people who don’t know better tell other photographers that full frame is is everything. It’s not! OM SYSTEM is like a cheat code for photography.

For me (a guy who loves to eat), OM SYSTEM is like the best all-you-can-eat buffet ever. It has EVERYTHING I need in one small package, with image quality that astounds me.

The pipeline from my brain, to my eyes, to the camera and out to the world as a print is perfect.

OM SYSTEM matches my vision and can keep up with my needs for both creative (the schoolhouse and cemetery), and professional work (the nature reserve).

I’ve had over 10 Fujifilm X-Series cameras (including all their new 40 megapixel ones). Recently, I owned the Z8 and Z9 and a bunch of lenses for more than a year. I had had the Sony A7iv and A7RV and some G Master lenses. At one point, I also owned three medium format Fujifilm GFX cameras and seven giant lenses.

I’m so happy I switched.

All I need is a normal-sized backpack to tackle any adventure the world might throw at me, from in-the-field to on-the-wall.

NOTE: This post is not sponsored by OM SYSTEM, and I have no affiliate links to share. IF you are interested in an OM-3, however, see if your local camera store can get you one.

OR, use my local camera store, Rockbrook Camera (who has the OM-3 in stock and ships quickly!)

Let’s forget Amazon and buy local!

—-

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And as always, send me any questions you have or topics you’d like to see me cover in upcoming newsletters or YouTube videos (you can subscribe here).

More than anything, even if you don’t purchase a print, subscribing to my YouTube channel, watching some videos, and leaving me a comment about what you think is a great, free, way to support me!

Comments? Leave them below or email me: jerredz@gmail.com

I initially bought the $1,500 Ricoh GRIV so I’d always have an “awesome” camera with me, but now I have no use for the GRIV.

The mood.camera app is so much more fun and produces printable, soulful images!

It won’t replace my professional cameras… but for random walks through the world? The mood.camera app is perfect and probably more powerful thank you think.

I’ve written about it before, but this time I had a chance to ask Alex, the 1-man team behind the app, a few questions:

(All photos below: copyright: Alex Fawks)

What was your inspiration to design this app?

Put simply, it was out of frustration with the direction that mobile photography had taken in the past 5+ years. The sensors had gotten better, the devices more powerful, but the processing had become too fixated on increasing sharpness and dynamic range. I knew the sensors were capable thanks to experimenting with some other camera apps, but nothing quite hit the spot. I had a history with image editing & programming, so I thought why not give it a go myself.

What is your history with photography?

I’ve always been drawn to still photography. There’s something about freezing a moment in time that’s always fascinated me. You can choose how to tell the story, to frame the scene, capture the emotion. It gave me a reason to look more closely at my surroundings, to notice details others might pass by, and to see things from different angles. I also loved editing.

Being able to take an ordinary photo and enhance the feeling behind it felt a bit like a super power.

I dabbled in film, but mostly used DSLRs until phone cameras became good enough. I was always drawn to the form factor, being able to spend a day out in London, take hundreds of photos without carrying extra gear, then edit them on the train home, all on the same device.

Over time, though, I became fatigued by the editing process and found myself taking fewer and fewer photos. That’s when I started looking for apps that had that cinematic look baked in, something more like a point-and-shoot experience.

I said, and I think you said, that this app creates photos with soul. What does that mean to you in context to photographs?

There are lots of interpretations of what a photograph “is”, but for me, it should be able to transport you back to that scene or place. You’re trying to capture the emotion you felt when you took it, not just what your eye saw, it’s the whole experience. Phone camera’s are good at capturing lots of detail, wide dynamic range, high sharpness, strong saturation, but not much feeling.

I think the “soul” comes from the imperfections and obscurity in a photo. If your mind has to do a bit of work to piece together a scene, you become more immersed in it. Maybe that’s because it’s closer to how memory actually works, slightly fuzzy and imperfect.

The grain here feels different and much more refined. It seems very film-like. Probably better than any app or even editing program, especially given they are SOOC jpegs. How did you do it?

Thank you! There are quite a few layers to how the grain is processed, which I can’t really go into. But, to start with I spent a lot of time studying how grain behaves in real film photos and the physical properties behind it. The effect went through many iterations, gradually layering in the visual elements that I thought helped it look authentic. At the same time, I had to be mindful of performance so it would run well on-device.

Random mode is amazing. Was that always part of the plan?

Glad you like it! I came up with Random mode as a way for people to continue using the app for free after their initial trial ended. Turns out some people just really like to use that app that way! It’s great if you like surprises and aren’t too precious about your photos looking “perfect”. It certainly plays into the idea of “letting go” of control. If anyone hasn’t tried it already, I recommend giving it a go!

Mood seems to be a very personal project. Do you have a photo you’ve taken with it that surprised you? Not for marketing or anything - but just one that you love for whatever reason? Could you share it and tell me why?

I’ve always loved this photo of my cat, Talulah, last spring in our garden. It’s been my phone background for quite a while. I think the light and framing just work really well, plus the colours pop but don’t feel over done. I also like that there’s a bit of natural bokeh from the telephoto lens. It also helps that she’s a pretty kitty heh.

You have a buy-it-once and use it forever philosophy that I find refreshing and worthy of support. Why make that decision?

It’s a tough one. From a consumers perspective, subscriptions are annoying. However, from a developers perspective you kind of need to keep a decent level of revenue to justify adding features, support for new iPhones etc. Especially if it’s your primary income. It’s tricky to get the balance and it doesn’t help that people generally don’t value software that highly.

When I first ran my beta I wasn’t really thinking that deeply about pricing but lots of users were asking for a lifetime purchase option and it just felt like the right thing to do. The app was kind of a bit of a hobby in the beginning and so I didn’t think too hard about it.

What’s next for mood.camera? Anything you’re excited about or want to share?

I’ve just released v2.0 of the app, with major improvements to the image processing pipeline. Dynamic Range, Halation, Bloom, and Tone Mapping have all been rebuilt from scratch, with a focus on more filmic, consistent results. You can read more about it, plus see some examples here: https://mood.camera/v2

I don’t have any details on what’s next, but I’ll probably be focussing on stability and small tweaks to the v2.0 release.

What else did I miss?

Big thanks to my community and everyone who’s sent me a message with support for the app. It’s a good feeling to know all the hard work is appreciated!

Here is a video featuring the mood.camera app, and some of the things I’ve learned by using the app:

P.S. - If you’re getting this, you’re probably already subscribed to my newsletter, but please share this with any photography enthusiasts who are looking for inspiration, tips and a positive photo community (no judgement here)!

And as always, send me any questions you have or topics you’d like to see me cover in upcoming newsletters or YouTube videos (you can subscribe here).

More than anything, even if you don’t purchase a print, subscribing to my YouTube channel, watching some videos, and leaving me a comment about what you think is a great, free, way to support me!

Comments? Leave them below or email me: jerredz@gmail.com

Not much, honestly. At least for those, like me, who come to gawk at the detritus.

(Remember: the world ends not with a bang, but a whimper.)

From the outside, we see fascinating glimpses into dead dreams, families scattered, and forgotten city streets… but we will never understand what it’s like to live through the kind of slow decline the people of Corning, Missouri have experienced through the years.

Corning was a railroad AND river town, which sounds great! But flooding was always a serious issue for people in Corning since its founding in 1868. (Population decline is a prevalent story in all these floodplain communities along the Missouri river).

The floods come in. The people rebuild… but some leave.

It was a pattern you can see in the town’s census numbers through the years, with precipitous drops during severe flooding.

The last straw was the disastrous flooding in 2019, which tore through the levees throughout this entire region. Roads became impassable. Living became impossible.

And on December 27, 2022, the town officially disincorporated.

The town of Corning, Missouri no longer exists.

However, it’s a fascinating place to explore:

Main Street

From an article in Farmer’s Publishing:

Corning was a prosperous community that had quite a variety of businesses for the size of town that was available. It had two general stores, flour mill, two drug stores, dram shop, bank, newspaper, furniture and undertaking business, boot and shoe shop, harness shop, two blacksmith and wagon shops, two livery stables, a lumberyard, sawmill, rope and twine factory and brick factory. There were five doctors, a dentist, two cemeteries and a saloon. Corning also had an M.E. church, grain elevators, ice houses, creamery, meat market, barber shop, millinery and dress-making shop, post office, opera house, a string band and hotels.

Corning had the river for activities and entertainment along with Manitoba Lake and Schulte Lake. Manitoba Lake had a very large 4th of July celebration for many years before it was drained. The lake no longer exists.

The Neighborhood

This place was eerily quiet as I walked the streets.

St. JOHN’s Lutheran Church

This church is on the National Historic Register, but its days are numbered.

Corning started as a mostly German-speaking town, and this church held services in German for a while.

The Tiny One-Room Schoolhouse

This little gem of a school held regular German speaking classes from 1912-1917, after which it held various functions for the church and community.

As a former high school teacher, I feel connected to these places.

This photo is NOT from the schoolhouse above, but instead a Corning classroom in 1953 (taken at a school no longer standing). I find it fascinating.

This guy either wound up in jail or a became a politician:

These two have contrasting views of having their photos taken:

Definitely the class clown in the next one. What is on his shirt? Looks like a giant worm destroying the town or something.

The Jail

A local (thank you for your time, Phil Graves!) told me that this was the jail, so I had to get closer to see.

I peaked inside… and saw the distinct sign of a small-town jail. Basically just a metal box for you to hang out in while you (likely) sobered up:

A Giant, Awesome Home

I asked a different local about this home (located just beyond Corning), but they didn’t know much about it, and I couldn’t find much online.

ANOTHER One-Room Schoolhouse:

Just down the road, AGAIN: more artifacts from the past.

I call this one “F SCHOOL!”

Not much left behind except an exceptionally-colored retro stove and the old fridge.

SHELTER:

If this is a house, it’s one of the smallest I’ve ever seen. The midwest is famous for a lot of very small houses (that often housed large families), but this? This is way too small to feel like any traditional home. Maybe a temporary place for the railroad? I’m not sure.

Like many places here, tornadoes are also a factor to consider, making storm shelters like this fairly common.

(At least I hope it’s a storm shelter and not home to a monster of unimaginable Lovecraftian horror.)

This place takes center stage in my half-truth-half-fiction video I made about the town:

Mt. Hope Cemetery

Not far from Corning is the cemetery, built on a hill to avoid the flooding.

Allegedly, Lewis and Clark traveled by the area, but pretty much EVERYWHERE in the midwest makes the same claim.

P.S. - If you’re getting this, you’re probably already subscribed to my newsletter, but please share this with any photography enthusiasts who are looking for inspiration, tips and a positive photo community (no judgement here)!

And as always, send me any questions you have or topics you’d like to see me cover in upcoming newsletters or YouTube videos (you can subscribe here).

More than anything, even if you don’t purchase a print, subscribing to my YouTube channel, watching some videos, and leaving me a comment about what you think is a great, free, way to support me!

Comments? Leave them below or email me: jerredz@gmail.com

www.jerredz.com

It was a cool project, and I wanted to make an impression by sending my best forest photos… but then I freaked out.

I don’t have many traditional “forest” shots like I imagined they might be looking for.

I live in Nebraska, for goodness sake. Forests??

So, I fired up Google Maps in order to plan some possible routes to find some “real” forests I might be able to photograph.

Colorado isn’t far. Minnesota and Wisconsin have some great forests too. But the coasts? I bet the Redwoods would be epic. And the East Coast is full of those idyllic hills and forest views.

As I was mapping out routes and figuring out how I’d pay for the trip (and hoping my 150K plus car would survive a cross-country trek), I took a few cameras and almost subconsciously went for a walk at Fontenelle Forest in Bellevue, Nebraska.

It’s a place I’ve known since I first learned how to walk. My mother would take me there, and the two of us would wander the grown-over paths. She taught me about bird calls, how beavers could literally re-shape the wetlands, and to always love and respect nature.

These forest paths became part of my DNA, but somehow, even after 25 years of being a photographer, I have very few photos from Fontenelle.

There is a valley there just across some train tracks near the Fontenelle wetlands I haven’t walked since I was a kid. For some reason, I just didn’t think it would be “pretty” enough.

What was I thinking?

The valley was… stunning. Early spring revealed tiny wildflowers, and the pathway was full of new growth.

I walked through here with a sense of child-like awe, remembering my mom’s hand in mine, and when I heard this Chickadee song, I almost cried:

The Chickadee (and many others) sang as I walked, and I felt fully present for the first time in years.

This was last week, and I’ve been back almost every day since.

Depression is a brutal thing. It’s a cloud of unrelenting, invisible, indescribable sadness, and I’ve been dealing with it for decades. I’ve watched myself degrade from a hopeful young husband and father to a person I couldn’t even look at in the mirror.

But lately, the cloud has been lifting, and this forest is a reminder of how far I’ve come recently as I’ve gotten REAL (professional) help with my sadness for the first time in my life.

A few days ago I asked my wife to come for a walk with me here, and the smile on her face was more uplifting than anything I’ve seen in a long, long time.

She held my hand as we walked, both of us amazed by spring’s simple beauty. The sound of the water. The creaking of trees. The butterflies fluttering among the tiny flowers.

The forest is always becoming something new.

It’s a reflection of ourselves: Changing. Living, Resilient.

When I got home from our walk through the valley, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

I didn’t look away. I remembered my wife’s hand in mine during early spring, the Chickadee’s song, and my mother’s lessons… and I smiled.

I didn’t hate what I saw.

Hope is a wonderful thing.

(Photographers - these were all taken with a mix of the OM-1 MarkII, OM-3, Fujifilm GFX 100s, and my iPhone 17 Pro. Most are straight-out-of-camera jpegs.)

P.S. - If you’re getting this, you’re probably already subscribed to my newsletter, but please share this with any photography enthusiasts who are looking for inspiration, tips and a positive photo community (no judgement here)!

And as always, send me any questions you have or topics you’d like to see me cover in upcoming newsletters or YouTube videos (you can subscribe here).

More than anything, even if you don’t purchase a print, subscribing to my YouTube channel, watching some videos, and leaving me a comment about what you think is a great, free, way to support me!

Comments? Leave them below or email me: jerredz@gmail.com

www.jerredz.com

He’s photographed hundreds of weddings, countless portraits, celebrities, and much more. You can find his work in the New York Freaking Times (and other big-deal publications).

You might think you’ve seen every way possible to photograph a person… until you see Hunter’s work.

He’s relentlessly creative, and his photos of people are more dynamic and full of life than any other photographer in his field.

He journals through creative ruts. He shoots for the edit before he ever touches the shutter. He ignored every photographer around him when he was starting out, not out of arrogance, but because he figured the only thing worth developing was his own eye.

More than anything, though, he’s an incredible human being who makes an impact on the people he photographs. In every frame, not only do I see a trained artistic eye, but a buoyant human soul full of complexity and unending amounts of love.

You’re going to be better off getting to know him a bit:

What’s your story?

It was not always easy growing up in a small town with an artistic ability that nobody around really understood. I am thankful that I was blessed with great friends and family to push me in the direction of following my dream. So, here I am today.

I picked up a camera at an early age and it kind of went from there. I went to college just to say I went to college so I did not feel like a complete bum and it gave me a sense of direction. Although I never used the degree I have in Computer Networking, I was able to get myself through school with photography.

I used to be a painter ( a very impatient one ), and I found that photography could give me instant gratification and also make people other than myself happy.

Other people’s happiness became my drug of choice.

You will see me at any given day walking around town photographing random people that look interesting to me.

Was there a single moment that made you take photography seriously?

I shot my first wedding for $300 and I do not feel like digging those images up, they are not worth looking at to be honest. But 200+ weddings later, I look back at that first one and really appreciate how welcoming that couple was and how much trust they placed in me. I was cheap as hell, but those images were going to hang on their walls forever and be shown to their kids someday. That kind of permanence hit me early. I love shooting weddings, but I am not passionate about them. Yet that moment still sticks with me more than almost anything else. I think it is because it was never about the work, it was about the weight of responsibility and rising to meet it.

Do you struggle with creative ruts? How do you get out?

Boy do I ever. I feel like I have a split personality and half of it is in a creative rut about 30% of the time. I have found various ways of getting out, and as cliche as it sounds, grounding yourself is the best thing. Personally I need to unplug from the screens, take a walk, and journal. Write about how you are feeling. Since I have journaled for so long I can look back on past entries and find my way through it. A lot of people go out and look for inspiration in other photographers but I find my inspiration internally, after all we are what makes us, us. Looking for it externally through social media or YouTube can actually make you feel worse. Stick to the basics. We aren’t wired for technology, it’s wired for us.

What photo are you most proud of, and what makes it stand out to you?

I had the opportunity to photograph Post Malone and it stands out for obvious reasons, but the story behind it is what makes it special. He is as down to earth as everyone says he is. He looked at me and said “hey man, do you want a really good picture? Let me see your camera” and then pulled me next to him and took a selfie himself. He missed focus, but he is a rockstar not a photographer, so I will give him that. Honestly the story makes the photo a little less cool on paper, but I had a plan going in and I executed it. I am proud of the craft behind it, not just the name attached to it.

Who’s a photographer, famous or not, that changed how you see?

I have gotten this question a lot and the honest answer is going to sound egotistical, so be it. When I started, Instagram and YouTube were just getting off the ground so there was not really anyone to look up to, so I just looked up to myself and kept pushing to be better. I looked at the photographers around me, saw what they were doing, and thought I will just do the exact opposite and bring something different to my hometown. That mentality led to being voted photographer of the year in Starkville three years in a row before I moved. The best way I can put it is that I look internally for inspiration because it is in there, and it is in all of us. Looking at others is a losing game because you will fall into comparison, and the one thing none of us can replicate in each other is ourselves.

What’s the worst photography advice you ever followed?