Mornings in the house begin in quiet. I wake up before everyone else, early enough to catch the sun rising over the mountains in the distance. Every day a surprise. Every day a new color, a different form of cloud. Every morning takes my breath away.
A few years ago, my friend Dave sat me down in a cyberpunk-y sake bar in NYC that I’ll never find again without his help and told me it was time to stop living my life in triage. We were trying to buy the house in Salta while also traveling back and forth to the US, Israel and other places. I loved the constant commotion, yet continual movement left projects undone, words unsaid. Travel became a reason not to finish things, because I was always moving on. That’s when we made a conscious decision to stay in one place, at least for a little while.
I started taking these sunrise photos to show the incredible beauty and variation of remaining motionless. Instead of traveling wide, I began to travel deep.
Every single one of these photos was taken from the balcony outside our bedroom looking out toward Salta city and the mountains beyond. All but one was taken between six and eight in the morning. Each time, I was standing within the same 2 meter area of space. I did very little post processing on any of the photos. They come to you as I found them.
I say this often, I know, but life is in the details. It’s easy to become too accustomed to that which is outside your window every day. This photo essay reminds me never to stop seeing the world as a traveler and a writer no matter how small the space in which I stand.