To See the Sky is merely a mystery to most of you, minus a few stills and stories, and my writing and rambling about the life changing experience that was six weeks spent in Patagonia this winter. Today is a special day, as I’m excited to announce that the world premiere of To See the Sky will be in Salt Lake City, Utah this September, at the Wasatch Mountain Film Festival.
This is a story that I hold especially close to my heart, about Lorenzo Sympson, a person who has inspired so many to look up. It’s also a story about the Andean condor, its significance and the challenges it faces. But perhaps most importantly, it’s a story about life, its joy, its hardships, its indelible moments, and what makes it worth living.
I’m beyond thankful to all of those involved in this process, from brainstorming, to planning and carrying out what undoubtedly became my most cherished life experience to date.
We’re proud of this one. I’m proud of this one.
Trailer and more info coming soon.
To See the Sky
I turn 27 today. This is a number I’ve put far more thought into than I probably should, for more reasons than I can even begin to describe, but alas, here we are. To be honest, there’s a part of me that believes life truly begins today…
I’m excited to announce that today is also the day that I am introducing an incredibly special project to the world - my latest short film, To See the Sky. As many of you know, I embarked on a journey of a lifetime to Patagonia this winter, working on a project about a dear friend and a very special human being, Lorenzo Sympson, and his love, wonder and admiration for the Andean condor - the world’s largest flying bird.
Filmmaking is a funny thing, and to be honest, I’m not a filmmaker, not yet. As I said to Ed Kashi years ago, as a college kid in a college classroom listening to him compliment my photo portfolio in front of classmates, “I’m not a photographer, but I take photographs.” At that point, I had been photographing birds for five years or so, and my portfolio was quite nice to look at, but for me, until I dove head first into this craft and made it the epicenter of my life, I wasn’t a photographer. And I still haven’t. The same can be said for film. I’ve learned some stuff about cameras and techniques, a bit about people, quite a bit more about birds and animals and conservation, but as for the art of filmmaking itself, I’m still very green. Like anything, it’s a process, and a process that I’m embracing each and every step of, no matter how minuscule. There will be good days and bad days, and some right in between, but as long as you’re telling a story you’ve done something.
This film will forever hold a place in my heart. I’m proud of it. I’m proud of myself. I’m proud of and beyond thankful for each and every one of the people who played a part in bringing to life. And even after the 600th time watching the same frames again and again, they still carry the same fuzzy feelings as they did initially. If nothing else, this film is a collection of some of the greatest moments of my entire life, and for that I owe the world. For Lorenzo, it’s a seldom told story seeing the light of day, and most importantly a reflection of a life’s worth of work dedicated to the natural world. And I know, he’s proud of it too.
With that I’ll say, stay tuned! I cannot wait to share a trailer with you all this summer, as well as more info on when / where to view the full film when it finds a home online. With any luck, it’ll be showing at a film festival or two near you this fall.
I want to take a moment to thank my good friend Everett at Method Design Co. for the beautiful custom title design and logo work. This was a process that we worked hard to pull together, I couldn’t be more happy with the final result. Appreciate you, Ev!
And to my friends both at home and in Argentina, thank you. You know who you are. None of this would be possible without you all.
Saludos.
Daydreaming
Daydreaming about a place, a long way from here. The concept of existence is an interesting one to me, and I think about it often. Though I sit roughly 6,000 miles from this landscape filled with guanaco, someone else sits in it. I think it takes traveling far from home to realize that the maps we look at throughout our lives hold physical places, people, and animals, and unless we go there, we’re missing out on a whole lot.
Austral
The more you traverse around the Earth and its ecosystems, the more similarities you find. While those striking yellow eyes may have been new to my list of life species, they were so familiar to the relative in the north I know quite well. This particular morning was one I think about often - I can still feel that spiky vegetation poking straight through my pant legs as I followed these little owls around, while the cool morning breeze let us know the day had begun. I owe a lot to this place, for not only the memories it’ll provide for the rest of my life, but for the new perspectives I have of the world. I never realized how truly valuable those would be. Travel is good for the soul.
Austral pygmy-owl, southern Patagonia.
La Fragua
Only a landscape as vast and perceptible as those found throughout Patagonia could make the largest flying bird on Earth appear small. Nestled into a well-used communal roost site, a common behavior for this species, thirteen Andean condors sit out of the wind and prepare for a night’s rest. At daybreak, they will leave collectively to begin the search for food.
My wonder and curiosity for Patagonia is profound, and my mind has not stopped running around it since setting foot there a little over six weeks ago. It’s hard to imagine how similar an ecosystem over 6,000 miles away can be to your home. I guess it all comes back to the basic lessons that science teaches us - lessons about mountains and rain, forests and desert.
I’ve walked in many places throughout my life, places as grand as the Greater Yellowstone and pure as the Desert Southwest, but no place at all rivals the steppe of the Andes. It’s as if the world is 100 years younger there, and the people have managed to stop time. May it never tick on…
Floating
Sometimes, as it turns out, the stars do align. An owl hunting the fine line between light and dark, myself standing not too far from her, creates an image and pulls together an idea that I’ve had for a long time. This is one of those moments where I feel rewarded for caring about the wellbeing of something.
Floating.
