Angel's Landing

We were the only ones awake at 7am in the morning. Somehow the creaky, friday the 13th looking log houses didn't satisfy my sleep, or my buddy Randal's. So far, all we had seen was this one house, dead at night, during a rain storm when we arrived; I didn't understand what the big hype about this Zion National Park was. Only until 7 in the morning did we realize the towering, god-like mountains surrounding us. So, awake, and with nothing to do, we got our skate shoes on, grabbed a sweater, a couple camera's, wrote mom a quick note a napkin, and hoped on a bus.

We were the only people in the bus. The driver was a charming woman, smelling like coffee, and ready to tell you every detail of everything you could ever know about the great Zion National Park. We had the entire day to do nothing but walk around, since thats what your supposed to do there. So, we asked the woman what the longest, craziest, most beautiful trails to the peaks of these mountains were. She told us of one, and the name reassured us; it was called Angel's Landing.

The hike was deserted. For the entire five hours of hiking, up the five miles of rock and trail, it was Randall, myself, and good ol' mother nature. My cameras kept us busy, and I felt I was in Lord of the Rings; hiking through death valleys, scaling treacherous mountain faces. When we arrived at the top, we were standing on seats of Gods, looking across an entire mountain range that didn't seem apart of this world. Before this, I had never gone on a hike that rewarded me with something as beautiful as what I had experienced. It was a great time with my buddy Randal Stacy. Three days after the hike, we were lounging in our gold and white bathrobes, eating room service in our presidential suites of the Bellagio hotel, for a hefty price of zero dollars. I brought along with us my two, 35mm film cameras, along with a pocket full of rolls of films. Here are a couple shots of our adventure. Enjoy!

TTK

A trip to SOHO

On a normal, lazy sunday afternoon, I decided I would take a trip to SOHO to see what I could find. SOHO has so much art and so much class; I've lost count how many times I've skated there and each time I've gotten lost. I seem to find new art on the walls and new streets that don't seem to be on the map. I feel like making a secret map of all the little spots and alley-ways, like in Harry Potter. And the women! OH que Linda! so much stuff is always happening down there; its its own little world. So I did alittle loop around SOHO, ended up in Union Square, bought the largest apple I've ever eaten in my life, and ended my day with Kai and my mom having some after school Ice cream. Nothing like some fancy ice cream...

TTK

The Master Bamboo Maker

If you venture past the main headquarters of a Bamboo fortress, and beyond the little huts that just poke out of treeline, you'll find yourself following various paths cut by the adventurer guru himself, Sam Scheer. Now follow a path down the slope, slip n' slide on some wet mud, trip over nests of termites, and you'll end up in a gully of Bamboo that tower one hundred feet. Tucked away in one of the 4 monstrous clumps of Bamboo lays the biggest hammock in world, and if your lucky enough, you'll find the master bed that belongs to the master bamboo maker, Joe Scheer himself.

If you DARE to follow the path even more, you'll climb up a slope, jump over a barb wire and maybe, just maybe, you will have found paradise; an endless amount of fresh mangos sprawled throughout the ground and delicately hanging off the trees waiting to be picked and eaten. Eat one of these mangos and you'll be picking at your teeth forever, enjoying the sweet juices and the stringy pieces of mango stuck in your mouth. Enjoy this mango hunt I went on one afternoon in Puerto Rico, while I was living in sustainable bamboo tree houses.

TTK

Rat Race

Play the video, listen to the song, read the lyrics, become educated. We only know what we know, and what we don't know. If you only know what you don't know, well, at least you know that you don't know, ya know? The unexamined life isn't worth living for.

Uh! Ya too rude!

Uh! Eh! OH What a rat race!

Oh, what a rat race!

Oh, what a rat race!

Oh, what a rat race!

This is the rat race! Rat race! (Rat race!)

Some a lawful, some a bastard, some a jacket:

Oh, what a rat race, yeah! Rat race!

Some a gorgon-a, some a hooligan-a, some a guine-gog-a

In this 'ere rat race, yeah!

Rat race!

I'm singin' that

When the cat's away,

The mice will play.

Political violence fill ya city, ye-ah!

Don't involve Rasta in your say say;

Rasta don't work for no C.I.A.

Rat race, rat race, rat race! Rat race, I'm sayin':

When you think is peace and safety:

A sudden destruction.

Collective security for surety, ye-ah!

Don't forget your history;

Know your destiny:

In the abundance of water,

The fool is thirsty.

Rat race, rat race, rat race!

Rat race!

Oh, it's a disgrace

To see the human-race

In a rat race, rat race!

You got the horse race;

You got the dog race;

You got the human-race;

But this is a rat race, rat race!

TTK

Open the Door

As soon as you walk out that door. That's when it will happen. Lights, noises, movement; so much energy collides all at once to smack you in the face. Start walking and you start on a adventure that leads into an abyss of constant motion. Bits and pieces of sounds blend and mush together to create a magical theme song that entertains your entire day. Snippets of conversations, dogs barking, high heels clicking, cars honking; let your imagination and your ears lead you around the next corner, and let your eyes take quick snaps of whatever pleases you from street to street. Then, after you've had your fill, walk back to your door, step back into your building, and wait till you've become hungry enough again to step out into the sleepless, ageless, breathing life of New York City. Welcome to my home.

TTK

He Chills, He Beats, and He Kills (the ladies)

In the middle of the misty, lonely Loon Mountain, NH, lives the guru of chilling, the chef of room service, the infamous, Brian Sullivan. We just call him Bsully. Now take a quick road trip to Colorado and spend a weekend at Denver University and you'll most likely bump into these two fools. Mr. sex flex master flex StewBird Stewy. Adopted to a life of the Third ear, mixing, listening, searching, and loving all of music is Stewbirds light. Lastly, we got mad max, Max Tabor. With a Snoop Dogg walk, and a gangsta charm, max works hard, and parties harder. On a quiet, rainy day along the coast of Portsmouth, NH, I met up with these three. With no surf, and no dry concrete to skate on, backflips seemed like the right thing to do. Good times with these homies. Enjoy some photos of this adventure

TTK

First up

From the moment we are awake, to the moment we put our minds and eyes to rest, we are constantly observing, moving, remembering, and thinking. As humans, we are always taking mental photos in our head so that we may remember, interpret, memorize, and enjoy the things that surround our live's, and make us who we are as individuals. As a photographer, and a 19 year-old kid grown up under the bright lights of New York City, I've learned to enjoy and observe all the things I see, do, and listen to in my life. There are beautiful things everywhere, at anytime, in everyone's life; slow down and look around you every now and then. It's kinda hard to smell the roses when your traveling at 90miles an hour, no? I'm constantly surround by ideas and people that come and go, going from point A, to point B, only to be worrying of where their life is going next. Live life day by day. Enjoy the little things and the big things; the bad and the good. Become the child in you that you thought left, but really, never did. Go get lost somewhere; and bring a camera.

This is my Blog, and these are my photos and words of the people I have met, adventures I've had, and things I have done that have allowed me to enjoy everyday, and what I do in my life that much more. Enjoy!

TTK