Walkers of wonder,

It’s around 6:30 AM on a Friday when I wake up, well before my alarm is supposed to ring. In about two hours I’ll be on a train to Berlin, again. I don’t know what it is about that city. It’s the one I’ve visited most outside of The Netherlands, for some reason. I’ve always loved and enjoyed it, of course, for its gritty character in the east, polished demeanor in the center, and upscale life towards the west of the city has an allure to me that is difficult to explain.

It’s not like I love it though. I don’t get that feeling of ‘coming home’ when I roll into the city. I like being there, it remains an interesting place, I’ve made friends there (hi Phil!) that I like to see, and there is a lot to explore for me still, while also being familiar enough that it feels relatively effortless to move around. But... that’s about it. Berlin was once ‘just another city trip’ for me. But over time, it slowly revealed itself to me. And now I am too intrigued to find out where it leads me to pick different destinations for my quick getaways.

I’ve never been to Berlin on my own. Though, at this stage, I probably should. But no, this time again it’s a joint effort. My friend, and partner during the making of the Efflorescence, Thijs Tomassen, is joining me on this trip. Two friends, one a dad of an almost-two-year-old (with another on the way) and a thirty-something lost soul still figuring out what his life should look like.

I like hanging out with Thijs. He tickles my brain in ways I don’t find with many other people. He allows me to share my musings freely, without judgement, and joins me in the wondering and wandering that follows from them. I like to think I have a similar effect on him. And if not, at least I can be an excellent guide during this trip to a city I’ve come to know so well, and Thijs hasn’t been for 14(!) years.

Not the first image I took during the trip, as referenced below, but a different one that’s equally unremarkable.

It’s 2:31 PM when I take my first photo. An unremarkable shot of the Fernsehturm in the distance. I take that photo each year and I’m not even gonna bother showing it here. What does it add to my catalog? How does it progress my work? What should I do to continue finding new angles to photograph a city I’ve photographed so much already? These are the questions that occupy my mind the entire weekend.

I brought the Fujifilm X-Pro3 with the XF18mm f2 and the Fujfilm EF-X8 flash this time. A, for me, unconventional setup that I’ve grown to love recently. The wide angle allows me to shoot more freely, compose my images more loosely, get closer to subjects and distort them, or purposefully keep them small in the frame. It allows the frame to breathe and insert some context into the story each frame aims to tell. Daytime flash is something I’ve known about for years but never quite understood. I didn’t see the need for it. I’m not sure I do now, but I’m giving it a try to see how it feels. Breaking free from a mold requires new forms to take shape. Preferably over time. I find it makes for more authentic progress.

And progress we’re making, I think. I’m aiming my camera at anything that catches my eye. There’s not much thought or reasoning behind it. I’m mostly ‘feeling it out’ and seeing where that takes me. It’s a more instinctive way of taking photos and I like it. It’s liberating to not worry about the edges of a frame too much, but also good practice to make images fast and still capture something interesting.

After a couple of years of repeat visits to a city, you’ll see the things you found interesting the first time are a little bland and redundant with more accustomed eyes. It’s almost as if you’re starting to see more like a local would, though without being embedded in a city, how well can you truly see it for what it is? I’d argue you can’t. But perhaps that’s the beauty of travel anyway. It’s core strength being your ability to point out things others would gloss over. “Hey, this is actually different from what I know. This is cool and interesting. Ever thought about it this way?” you can say to locals, who look at you with a mix of wonder and surprise. Though sometimes they roll their eyes and ignore your remarks. Probably justifiably so.

I’m not too worried about opinions on what my eye is drawn too. Each image I make is an entry in my ‘things I have seen’ library. Another memory, carefully recorded and saved in a place that’s quickly referenced in futures close and distant. It’s a wonderful way to experience the world, if you ask me. In tune with my surroundings, always curious to see what’s around the corner. Small bursts of excitement with each step I take into unknown territory.

It’s 1 PM on Sunday when we’re back at Berlin’s Hauptbahnhof. Our train doesn’t leave for another hour but the rain we managed to evade all weekend has finally caught up with us. It’s cold outside. Berlin does that. It gets unwelcoming to a degree we don’t see as much in The Netherlands. I typically don’t mind it. Dress warm and stay focused on why you’re out there. Usually you’re fine.

But it’s been 48 hours since we got here, we walked close to 50K steps and slept a combined 12 hours. A good score, and the optimal way to spend two days in a city like this. I’m perfectly content huddling up in my jacket, eyes closed, carefully starting to think about the upcoming week’s tasks and adventures.

Daylight studio update

It’s becoming one. That’s the conclusion. Our first OSB wooded, dirty industrial windowed, then untreated plasterboard, then thoroughly cleaned and painted white space, now also sports a super luxurious oak wooden floor that we just put a second layer of oil on, to rejuvenate and protect the precious material. We have a daylight studio now, and I’m so happy we made it through this stage.

Next up: things we actually know how to do. Like picking out curtains and furniture. Decorating it with bits and bops that either look cool, or are functional additions to a professional daylight photo and video studio.

The past few months of this process has taught me a thing or two about myself, and how things don’t always have to go your way just because you think you deserve it. Just because “you’ve thought really hard and carefully about it and you’re sure you’ve made the right decision” does not mean you’re entitled to anything. Learning is costly. In time, money, or both. Usually both. For us it was both.

Curtains next. Furniture right after. Open for bookings... early January?

Hope to see you there,

Mitch