/r/Photoessay
The place to submit Photographic essays and slideshows.
To build community requires vigilant awareness of the work we must continually do to undermine all the socialization that leads us to behave in ways that perpetuate domination.
The place to submit Photographic essays and slideshows.
Not enough links here? Then why not check out r/photojournalism or r/RightsMedia -coverage of media rights stories around the world.
/r/Photoessay
11,356 Subscribers
Advice on logistics for a project
(apologies in advance for my grammar, english is not my main language)
I am a documentary-ish/commercial photographer that lives in a city 2 hours away from were i was born. I still visit there to see my parents. Frequently enough: once a month at the very least.
Ever since the covid lockdowns (when i couldn't visit at all), i've been having this idea brewing in the back of my head that is finally beginning to take shape. Related to some nostalgia over seeing how much the small city/big town i grew up in is changing, i want to document its streets, people and everyday life through anecdotes and photography (maybe some documentary / street photography).
I was wondering if you guys could help me out with general advice and logistics as to how to remain consistent on this / how to go about it / how would yo do it, taking into consideration the fact that i can't visit more often (about every 3-5 weeks) but i can stay a bit longer in those visits (3-6 days maybe).
Maybe the answers would be obvious to you, but not quite to me (i struggle if i dont have a plan of action). I'd appreciate if you could tell me how you would approach this if it were a long-term assignment or something like that. How do you keep anchored to the topics and findings, what type of notes you make, how do you organize your days, what would be necessary prior to the visits, how do you find a line to follow, how do you keep focused...
Anything will be of great help. Thanks in advance!
23:11 UTC
Synthetic Synesthesia: The City as a Sensory Landscape
The urban landscape dissolves into streams of color and movement, where synthetic light and shadow intertwine to create a heightened, almost surreal sensory experience. Standing with my camera, I find myself not just observing the city but absorbing it. Each photograph becomes a pulse point, a heartbeat of the city’s rhythms. Neon signs, car headlights, streetlamps, all blend and distort, bending into glows that defy their boundaries, casting fragments of a reality that feels more like a dream. Blurred hues and soft edges translate the sensory overload of urban existence into something that speaks to the complexity of human perception: a cross-wiring of senses, a dance of neon against night.
For a long time, I believed the city’s energy was essential to my own. There’s an intoxicating beauty in the orchestrated chaos, in the hum of lights and lives moving at once, a shared symphony of unspoken connections. City culture is rich and endlessly fascinating, a mirage that feels real in the moment. But after years spent capturing its allure, I see it now as an elaborate illusion, a construct built on light, stories, and noise, stretching across streets and skyscrapers. Beneath this synthetic glow lies something that isn’t man-made. It is something the city has decided it no longer needs. The natural world holds its quiet, enduring truths, grounding us in what is real, what is constant, what feels less like performance and more like presence.
The city’s pulse, relentless and humming, used to feel like a lifeline. Now, it feels like a heavy current pressing in. Its ambient haze, built on the layers of light, noise, and movement, seems to push me out more quickly with each visit. The buildings, stacked with people and electrified with artificial light, now feel overwhelming. Their energy is a thick fog. I used to revel in these incursions, finding the beauty in the symmetry of window grids and in the chaotic arrangement of people moving through their routines. But as I step back more and more, I feel a pull to the woods, to the quiet of the trees and the rawness of the air, unfiltered and unstaged.
In the woods, each breath feels fuller, each sound clearer, unbroken by the vibrations of traffic or the static of screens. Out there, my wired nervous system, so used to the city’s input, feels attuned in a different way, one that doesn’t require anything of me but my presence. The woods offer a calm that makes the bright urgency of the city feel far away, more like a memory than a necessity. When I look back at the city through my lens, I see it not just as a place but as a world built on its own rules of perception. The city dazzles, seduces, and often overwhelms. Yet for all its light, it cannot quite replicate the rooted truths that nature so easily holds.
For those drawn to the lights, there’s something magnetic, even hypnotic, about the artificial glow. It promises an endless landscape of possibilities and people, but at a price. It masks what lies above, what lies beneath, and what lies beyond the human-made. The cityscape becomes an act of omission, keeping us in its orbit and separating us from the stars, from the soil, and from the silent spaces that offer more than a show. They offer belonging. Through my camera, I explore this dynamic, the tension between fascination and the fundamental pull to return to what feels real.
Photography allows me to navigate these two worlds: the electric maze of urban life and the grounded peace of the natural world. My images seek to distill the city’s sensory overload, its dreamlike sense of disorientation, into a form that speaks not only of what the city is but of what it is not. They translate my relationship with this manufactured landscape and capture moments of synthetic beauty. But they also reflect a growing awareness of something simpler, something quieter, just outside the glow of the streetlights, waiting for me to return and breathe.
19:48 UTC
Eye on the Fertile Crescent: Life Along the Mideast’s Fabled Rivers
Rampant dam-building and years of conflict have transformed the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. Kurdish photographer Murat Yazar focused his lens on these fabled waterways and the people who live alongside them. See the photos.
13:37 UTC
Correctional Officer details horrific juvenile prison 'triple suicide' attempts that led to his retirement
21:29 UTC