I don't like nostalgia unless it's mine. ~ Lou Reed
It has been 372 days since I first drove across county, over the Raton Pass and into a new career.
Since moving to Colorado I’ve worked as a freelance photographer for a number of publications. It’s been a lesson in humility, budgeting, and networking. I have many people to thank for helping me get my foot in the door.
This year everything was new, new faces, new light, a few new friends and new experiences.
Some folks have asked me what I would do differently. The first thing I will do differently this year is to streamline my invoicing workload. Before venturing out into the murky world of freelance photography I was a staff photographer in North Carolina for three years. My paycheck, every two weeks, was automatically deposited into my bank account. It was magical.
The magic of direct deposit is gone, but the bills remain.
***
I’ve covered some very interesting and sad assignments over these last 372 days.
One long story was in Utah. I was assigned to cover the Crandall Canyon Mine collapse, where six miners and three rescuers lost their lives. The days were very long and the access was limited to the point of madness. The press had no access to family members nor would any one in the small town of Huntington speak. Large packs of media roamed the streets in search of the story, like gangs armed with lighting equipment and barking CNN producers pounding out emails on Blackberries.
It was a challenge to photograph without too much to show for my efforts even though I stayed for six days, two of which I slept in my Jeep so I would not miss the 4AM press conferences. Since it was a national story I met some really great still photographers in the long waits between press conferences and candlelight vigils.
They never found those miners but the families had funeral services for the victims anyway. I did not attend the services, though I had been invited.
One long story was in Utah. I was assigned to cover the Crandall Canyon Mine collapse, where six miners and three rescuers lost their lives. The days were very long and the access was limited to the point of madness. The press had no access to family members nor would any one in the small town of Huntington speak. Large packs of media roamed the streets in search of the story, like gangs armed with lighting equipment and barking CNN producers pounding out emails on Blackberries.
It was a challenge to photograph without too much to show for my efforts even though I stayed for six days, two of which I slept in my Jeep so I would not miss the 4AM press conferences. Since it was a national story I met some really great still photographers in the long waits between press conferences and candlelight vigils.
They never found those miners but the families had funeral services for the victims anyway. I did not attend the services, though I had been invited.
***
The year 2007 was the deadliest year for American troops in Iraq and Afghanistan.
This year I covered the funerals of two soldiers, from Colorado, killed in Iraq. One was only 19. The other soldier was a young father, from Pueblo, who left behind a two-year old son and wife.
Specialist Dane R. Balcon, 19:
Sergeant Blake Harris, 22:
Politics aside, covering the funeral for an American service member, is both physical and emotional. As the son of a retired Marine officer and brother of a Marine officer who served in Iraq you think about all the ‘what ifs’ as you are working. The flags, the soft sobs. The distant playing of Taps can be overwhelming.
You think about the mother of the fallen. You think about how easily your role could be reversed.
As a photojournalist it’s hard, if not impossible, to walk in the shoes of the people you are photographing. But if you, as a photojournalist, cannot at least imagine what the person or family is going through then your images will reflect that callousness.
I still have so much to learn.
This year I covered the funerals of two soldiers, from Colorado, killed in Iraq. One was only 19. The other soldier was a young father, from Pueblo, who left behind a two-year old son and wife.
Specialist Dane R. Balcon, 19:
Sergeant Blake Harris, 22:
Politics aside, covering the funeral for an American service member, is both physical and emotional. As the son of a retired Marine officer and brother of a Marine officer who served in Iraq you think about all the ‘what ifs’ as you are working. The flags, the soft sobs. The distant playing of Taps can be overwhelming.
You think about the mother of the fallen. You think about how easily your role could be reversed.
As a photojournalist it’s hard, if not impossible, to walk in the shoes of the people you are photographing. But if you, as a photojournalist, cannot at least imagine what the person or family is going through then your images will reflect that callousness.
I still have so much to learn.
***
Below is a small sample of my work since moving to Colorado. Would love to hear what you think.Thanks for reading.
Cheers,
Nathan W. Armes
For The Associated Press
For The Denver Post
For The Denver Post
For The Denver Post
For The Denver Post
Around the country, states are trying to tackle the issue of mercury emissions from the deceased people's teeth when they're cremated.
For The Los Angeles Times
For The Denver Post
For The Denver Post
For The Denver Post
For Sipa Press - Time Year in Images 2007
For The Denver Post
For Sipa Press
For The Denver Post
For Reuters

1 comments:
These are gorgeous photos. Really amazing. I found you from the photos you took of the Colfax Marathon runners last May. Thanks for sharing!
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