You’ll find me on the streets of the world, photographing people and places. For more than 50 years, I’ve carried a camera everywhere I go. It has been my voice, my way of seeing, and my way of bringing home the stories that matter. Each trip teaches me how to see differently. I continue to refine my vision. This allows me to create stronger images on my next adventure. The excitement always begins the moment I step off the plane.
A Life Through the Lens
I picked up my first camera at 8 years old. I knew immediately that it was more than just a tool. It became my way of understanding the world. Some people keep journals, others paint, but for me, the click of the shutter became my diary.
New York City has been my playground since 1975. Like now, back then, the streets were alive with movement and energy. I continued my style of street moments. I learned to see patterns in the chaos: light, angles, mood, and composition. Those early lessons stayed with me as I traveled farther afield.
Over the decades, I’ve wandered through markets in Asia, back alleys in Europe, and the rice fields of Bangladesh. As well as villages in China and India. The streets and fields of the world have been my classrooms. Carrying a camera forces you to pay attention. You learn that sometimes the most powerful image isn’t in front of you at all — it’s behind you, waiting for you to turn around.
Documenting Compassion: Medical Missions
For the past 30 years, much of my work has been devoted to medical missions. At these missions. I’ve documented the extraordinary efforts of doctors helping children in need. These trips have taken me to remote places where healthcare is scarce and where a single surgery can change a child’s entire life. China, the West Bank, Bangladesh, Pakistan, Israel, India, Europe, and many other places.
I am not a doctor. I can’t hold a scalpel or prescribe medicine. But I realized that my camera could play its own role. By capturing the moments of tenderness, skill, and determination — the exhausted surgeon’s face after hours in the operating room, the relief in a mother’s eyes as her child wakes up, the smile of a child seeing themselves healed — I could bring these stories home.
The images I made were not just photographs; they became tools for raising awareness and funds. They turned compassion into something visible, something undeniable. And in doing so, they taught me that photography, at its best, is service.
Teaching the Art of Seeing
Fifteen years ago, I began leading photography workshops, both abroad and in New York City.
People often ask, Why take a photography workshop? What can I really learn?
My answer is always the same: photography is not just about mastering a camera — it’s about learning to see. “ I see with my eyes and capture with my camera.”
Here are a few of the core ideas I teach, shaped by decades behind the lens:
Create Images Worthy of Your Own Walls
It’s not about collecting thousands of digital files that never leave your hard drive. It’s about slowing down, recognizing when a moment has weight, and capturing it in a way you’ll be proud to display.
Be Aware
The best photographs are often the ones behind you. While you’re focused on the obvious shot, something magical is happening in another direction. I encourage students to look up, down, and around — to tune their senses to what’s unfolding.
Tell Stories, Don’t Make Postcards
Tourist snapshots can be beautiful, but they rarely capture the depth of a place. I work alongside students, helping them see beyond the surface. Sometimes another photographer will point something out and you’ll think, “I didn’t notice that before — thank you.” That exchange of vision is where growth happens.
Use Design
Every photograph is built from elements: color, texture, light, perspective, and detail. As I walk through a street, I’m absorbing all of these at once. It’s not about capturing everything — it’s about recognizing which pieces belong together to make a strong image.
Find Your Voice
Safe photographs are easy. Anyone can stand where everyone else stands and press the shutter. But your personal voice comes when you take risks, when you interpret a moment in a way only you can. Working with others in a photography workshop can spark this — seeing how different eyes interpret the same scene teaches you what makes your vision unique.
In every photography workshop, we talk about light, angles, mood, and composition — all the ingredients that turn a fleeting moment into an extraordinary image. If we’re shooting at sunrise, I make sure participants capture it in the moment, not later, saying, “I wish I had done something different.” My goal is always the same: to help people build confidence, clarity, and a portfolio of work that feels deeply personal.
Cuba: A Living Classroom
One of my favorite photography workshop destinations is Cuba. It’s a place layered with history, culture, and spirit — a photographer’s dream.
Most people think of Cuba as a land of old American cars, and they’re not wrong. The streets of Havana are alive with classic Chevrolets and Buicks. But once you step beyond that first impression, Cuba reveals itself as something far richer.
In Havana, the energy is palpable. The music spills from doorways, dancers rehearse in sunlit studios, boxers train in open-air gyms, and artists carve out visions in paint and stone. Every corner is alive with stories waiting to be told.
But we don’t stop there. We travel into the countryside to Viñales, where tobacco growers and cigar makers welcome us into their fields and homes. Photographing a farmer rolling tobacco by hand, or the soft light falling across rows of drying leaves, is an experience that connects you directly to the roots of Cuban culture. And the deeper we step into that culture, the more important it becomes to truly see — to look beyond the surface and capture the authentic rhythm of Cuban life.
I often compare it to wine. You can read about Bordeaux or Burgundy, or taste the bottles in a store, but nothing compares to walking the vineyards, touching the soil, and hearing the winemaker’s story. That’s what photographing Cuba is like — you don’t just take pictures; you live the culture.
Why I Still Carry a Camera
After more than five decades, people sometimes ask why I still feel the pull to travel, to teach, to photograph. The truth is simple: photography has never just been about pictures for me.
It’s about connection. A camera is a passport to conversations that might never happen otherwise. It opens doors. It makes strangers into friends.
It’s about discovery. Each trip reminds me that the world is infinitely layered, and that no matter how many times I’ve photographed a place, there is always something new to see if I remain open. And it’s about storytelling. A photograph freezes a moment, but it also extends it. It allows others — sometimes halfway around the world, sometimes decades later — to step into that moment with me. Carrying a camera has been my way of living fully. It is my way of engaging deeply with the world, and of bringing home stories that matter.
An Invitation
If you join me on a photography workshop, you won’t just learn how to use your camera. You’ll learn how to see. You’ll learn how to craft images that carry weight, meaning, and beauty. And you’ll do it while traveling through places that offer more than the ordinary — places where culture and history are alive in every street and every face.
Whether in the bustling streets of New York, the rolling tobacco fields of Cuba, or the hidden corners of cities around the world, I invite you to step into this journey with me. Together, we’ll create not just photographs, but stories — distinctive, personal, and unforgettable. Photography workshops take your vision to the next level.
Because in the end, to me, photography has always been about more than pictures. It’s about the connections we make, the discoveries we share, and the stories we bring home.
