Guardians of the Andes
Connecting the physical challenge of climbing a mountain to the creative process of photography
There are few experiences on Earth more humbling than standing at the foot of a big mountain. The simple act of tilting my head upward to admire its vastness feels like a gesture of reverence—an acknowledgement of nature's power and a quiet, yet sharp reminder of my own insignificance in this massive world.
In films, changes in perspective often symbolize shifts in power dynamics between characters. Who could I forget the iconic low-angle shots in one of my favourite series, “The Sopranos.” These angles made the gangsters appear even more menacing and dangerous, emphasising their dominant and threatening energy.
But here, in the presence of the mountain, I don’t feel threatened—though perhaps I should. With every step upward, the air grows thinner—a subtle, persistent reminder that this is not my space, not a domain for humans. This high-altitude territory is ancient and wise, silently testing the worthiness of those who dare to climb. There are no gates to pass through, no ceremonial thresholds—only fields of rubble and scattered signs of life. Occasionally, the cry of a migratory bird cuts through the silence, a pair of vizcachas dances among the rocks, or a herd of llamas passes nearby, their calm presence softening the harsh, jagged landscape.
In the Andes, these massive peaks are often seen as guardians. Their imposing presence is regarded not as a barrier but as a protector, watching over the people below. They stand eternal, embodying both the harshness and the beauty of life in this part of the world.
Getting up early to reach the summit of a peak at the start of a new year feels deeply symbolic—a transmutation of challenges and possibilities. These ancient giants, with their unquestionable permanence, reflect the weight of the past while urging us to climb higher, to face the unknown with humility and courage. The journey upward is not easy; it tests our resilience and patience, much like finding good images.
Every photograph, like every step on a high mountain, is a deliberate act of progress—an attempt to capture meaning in the chaos of light and shadow. Just as the mountain offers no guarantees, photography demands persistence and patience, a willingness to embrace uncertainty, and an openness to the unexpected. Yet, the silence of the peaks teaches that every step forward, no matter how small, brings us closer to something greater—whether it's a summit or an image that gets to the heart of people.
All skills fill the same vessel.
Some more images for the small journey.
My blog will always remain free for everyone to enjoy!
If you appreciate my content and would like to support my work, consider subscribing and sharing it.
I will return to Istanbul in April to lead three workshops. If you're interested in joining a group or scheduling a one-on-one workshop, don't hesitate to contact me!
Also, consider purchasing my street photography e-zine “Understanding Colour”
Your support means a lot and helps me continue creating content.
Thank you for being a part of this journey!
Cheers!
Great series and fascinating place.
love the writing!