Caminante, no hay camino (16 x 12" / 45 x 30 cm, hand-printed cyanotype on paper)

This is a handmade contact photo, which means that the negative was the same size as the eventual photograph and was laid directly on top of the treated paper in order to make the print. The blue and white cyanotype process was developed in the mid-1800s and is an alternative photographic process to the usual black-and-white process. The paper is a thick, acid-free cotton watercolor paper.

The morning sun glows through the fog between the trees on a path through the woods. The title is from a poem by Antonio Machado. Roughly translated it means, “Traveler, there is no road, only the path that you create yourself.” And the poem’s final sentence “Caminante, no hay camino, solo estela en la mar” translates as “Traveler, there is no road, only the wake you leave behind you in the sea.” As we go through life let it be consciously, not carelessly, considering the impact our many decisions leave behind us.

These are the iconic Monterey pine trees of Northern California where I live. I captured the moment when the sun begins to burn through the winter morning fog in the hills of Oakland, California, across the bay from San Francisco, which has its own reputation for fog.