2017 in Review

For a lot of people, 2017 felt like a dumpster fire that wouldn’t go out. And while I, too, had some ups and downs, I have to be honest… 2017 wasn’t all that bad. At least, once I got over the constant news updates about whatever terrible thing was happening next in the world. Which are kind of hard to ignore when your job is all about the news.

It’s also been hard to tune out or fight back against all the misinformation about “the media,” my job and what I do, the things myself and my fellow journalists care about and strive for… the noise has become louder and louder. It can often feel disheartening and demoralizing. I’d encourage friends of mine who think the media is full of awful, biased people to consider reading more of their local news – it is out there! Talk to a journalist about what they do. Talk to me about what I do and why! I work in a newsroom full of hard-working, dedicated reporters and photographers, and I am proud to call them and so many more across this country friends and colleagues.

But, like I said, this year hasn’t been all bad. I traveled to incredible places, was surprised with some great trips to new destinations (Hawaii and Yucatan, Mexico!), spent time with my family in England, made it to my brother’s Masters graduation, saw my best friend get married, and finished my first photo story in ages as I covered the St. Paul Rodeo Queens. I attended my first conference in April when I went to Denver for The Image, Deconstructed, and I was blown away by the talent and the passion that I saw there. Michael and I photographed some beautiful weddings with really fun clients, including traveling to Boulder, Colorado, for our good friends Rob and Audrey (www.michaelcaryphotos.com). I witnessed – and photographed – a total solar eclipse and all of the frenzy that went with that.

Looking back on this year’s work, I don’t know if I can say I’ve made leaps and bounds from 2016. But I know that I do feel more confident and capable. I’ve also really upped my video skills, and finally tackled my fear of portrait lighting – though that’s still a work in progress, so you won’t see too much of it in here.

My goals for 2018 include (still) improving my lighting and video work, exercising more, cooking better meals at home, and blogging more (which I say every year, but, let’s be honest… with only two blogs, 2017 was not a great year for that).

Without further ado, here’s some scenes from the year, both personal and professional.





I’m going to end this post with a few personal moments. I didn’t get my camera out in my own life nearly as much as I would have liked, but sometimes it’s nice to just enjoy the moment.

Bestof2017_MJS_034Mexico vacation January 2017 with Michael ArellanoMexico vacation January 2017 with Michael ArellanoMichael graduates with his master's degree on Wednesday, May 10, 2017.06032017_London_MJS_007Paris in 2017Paris in 2017Paris in 2017

Paris in 2017

Total Eclipse of the Sun

I’m a little late to the game here, but after all of the frenzy around the solar eclipse, I needed to decompress a little bit before I thought about the experience again.

My newsroom was directly in the path of totality; located in the first state capital that would experience the eclipse, in the first state it would be visible in, in the first USA Today/Gannett newsroom that would get the chance to report on it. So it’s safe to say that it was a big deal for our paper. We spent months and months leading up to it discussing our plans, and the week-of was a frantic rush of activity.

I went to Central Oregon to cover the event, stationed in a small town called Madras. Or, at least, it was a small town… Until thousands of eclipse viewers descended on the fields outside of town and set up camp for a few days. Myself included.


Much of what myself and reporter Capi Lynn covered were the happenings in the camp we stayed in. Solartown was set up on farm fields just north of Madras, and hosted about 5,000 campsites for the weekend. I spent most of Friday and Saturday wandering around camp, getting the lay of the land, practicing my shots for the big event.

We met people who had traveled from as far away as Netherlands and as close as Washington and California. There were a handful of Oregonians there, but many of the people in the Madras area seemed to be from out of state. I talked to amateur astronomers, eclipse fanatics who had already seen five total or partial eclipses, and families who turned the event into a road trip. Though my newsroom is in Salem, we knew that Madras – a NASA designated site for one of the best places to view the eclipse – was going to be a large gathering point. While we were obviously there to cover the eclipse itself, the almost-bigger story was all of the people who had come together to experience it.

09152017_BLOG-eclipse_MJS_005Brann Smith flies his balloon above Solartown on Sunday, Aug. 20, 2017.Brann Smith flies his balloon above Solartown on Sunday, Aug. 20, 2017.09152017_BLOG-eclipse_MJS_009

We had some fantastic sunsets and a great view of both Mount Jefferson and Mount Hood, so every evening I’d scale the RV and photograph the skydivers that descended each sunrise and sunset.


We also met one of the locals – an alfalfa farmer named Dean, whose fields bordered the ones that had been rented out for the weekend. Dean had declined an offer to rent his land, hoping to avoid the insanity of eclipse weekend. Unfortunately for him, his neighbors took advantage of the situation and rented out their adjoining fields.


Capi and I stopped by on Saturday evening to chat with Dean (and meet his adorable puppy!), and follow him out into the field as he changed some watering lines. Imagine our luck when we found out he’s originally from Salem. It was a great local tie-in for us. Dean was gracious with his time and even invited me back the next day to climb on top of his hay barn for an overview of the campsite, although this ended up not panning out…

Because the next day, Capi and I were called out to one of the weirdest things I’ve had the fortune to photograph. One of the largest events in Oregon for the eclipse was a festival out past Prineville; we’re still unsure of what the official name is but it’s been called everything from Oregon Eclipse 2017 to the Symbiosis Festival to just ‘that weird thing near Prineville.’


On Sunday our newsroom decided to dispatch us to this event, and after an hour drive to Prineville, another ninety minute drive down some dirt roads, and about an hour and a half waiting to get approval to get in, we walked through crowds of festival-goers dressed in anything you could imagine. Including their birthday suits. I would have loved to stay longer than we did, but after all the red tape we had about 45 minutes on the ground before we had to turn back. It was a complete overload of visuals and sound, and I could hardly decide what to photograph as we walked through the dusty landscape.


I’ve only got a few photos to show here, but if you’re interested in seeing what this festival really looked like, I highly recommend the work by my friend (and former mentor/colleague) Beth Nakamura for The Oregonian

All of a sudden it was Monday and the big day was here. Camp was quiet in the morning, but quiet in a hushed, excited way. People were making final adjustments to their telescopes and cameras. Some were already packing up camp and ready to hit the road the second totality was over.


I set up my cameras on the roof of the RV – I’m going to get a little technical here but I know I’ve been asked many times how I photographed the event.

The biggest shot I needed to pull off was a composite image I’d been planning of the scene throughout the eclipse. Around 9 a.m., I set up my Nikon D810 with a 24-70mm, at 24mm, on the roof. I attached my solar filter and started the intervalometer to click every 10 minutes – this was capturing an almost completely black frame, with the sun’s orange disk being the only thing visible. During totality I would need to remove the solar filter to make an exposure for the foreground – crossing my fingers that people would decide to view the event from the roof of their RVs, I’d set up a vertical frame with the RVs in the bottom and enough room to show the progression of the sun through the sky.

I’d practiced this two or three times in the days prior to get the framing right and make sure I had room to capture the complete line of suns, but it was still nerve-wracking trying to decide if I really was in the right spot.

The exposures had to start just before 9 a.m. – with first contact of the sun and moon occurring at 9:06 a.m. – and run until about 11:41 – when the last contact on the exit path would occur. Though I wish I’d done shorter intervals to add more suns to the image, the end result is something I’m happy with. My hunch that people would be on their RV paid off, as you can see a number of families watching from their roofs. This is one image of the eclipse during totality (RVs, twilight sky, people watching, etc), with 16 tiny suns layered over the top (the orange disks from the exposures that were taken with the solar filter attached).


During totality, as I made the above exposure, I also had a number of other cameras in play. I’d set up a GoPro timelapse, attached to the legs of the tripod holding the Nikon D810. I put a 360 Camera in the center of the roof in the hopes of catching both totality and the horizon behind me in the same video – watching the horizon change during totality had to be one of the most magical things about this event. I haven’t had time or resources to put this together yet, as our paper is still experimenting with 360, but I think it came out ok. I had a Canon 5D with a 70-200 to photograph the crowds around me as they watched the event, and a Canon 7D with a 400mm on a tripod to photograph a tight shot of the sun. And because I’m crazy, at the last minute I threw my iPhone onto a time-lapse mode to capture it as well. Because five cameras wasn’t enough already, you know?


The eclipse passed in the blink of an eye for many, and I’m a little sad to report that it felt that way for me, too. Running all of those cameras and sweating trying to get my composite to work properly was incredibly stressful. I hardly had time to look at the total eclipse in the sky, as I was too busy jumping between each thing on the roof and making sure it was working.

You’ll notice that I don’t have a large image of the sun and moon during totality. This is partly because, as I mentioned above, the bigger story for us was the crowd that had come from all over the country (and the world) to watch. We also knew that hundreds of photographers would be capturing the typical eclipse image of a black frame with the sun’s corona shining around the disk of the moon. So knowing that I didn’t need to make this image a priority because we had other photographers shooting it, I left it until last on my shot list. And by the time I’d managed enough crowd shots to feel comfortable, and I’d worked on my composite image, I jumped back to the 400mm, removed the solar filter, put my face up to the eye piece and… the sun was beginning to peek around the side of the moon again and totality was over. In the blink of an eye.

But now, a few weeks later, when I think about what it was like? I’d use the same words as everyone else. Breathtaking. Once-in-a-lifetime. Unreal. Watching the sky suddenly go dark, seeing what looked like a 360 degree sunset, noticing the last light on Mount Jefferson and Mount Hood, hearing the crowds around me whooping and cheering… it was simply incredible. When the sun started to re-emerge just two short minutes later, I was so thrown off and sad that it was ‘daytime’ again. If you ever get the opportunity to see a total solar eclipse, I cannot recommend it enough. And put the camera down and enjoy it! I hope to get that opportunity for the next one.

Queen for a Day

It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a project I was super jazzed about. But I had one earlier this month, and I figure these are good images to break the dry spell with.


I spent a few days in late June and early July following the three young women on the St. Paul Rodeo Court. After meeting them at a function earlier in the week, we got to talking about their schedule on the first day of the rodeo. They planned to wake up at 2 am, get in full hair and makeup, get their horses ready, start TV interviews… and that was only until 10 am. They still had afternoon appearances and the opening night of the rodeo to ride in. I knew I wanted to be there in the early hours of the morning as they got ready, and, after asking me if I was serious, they happily agreed to let me join them early in the morning. So on Friday I got up at 3 am and drove to St. Paul.


I spent much of the day with the court, their families, and members of the rodeo, and over the course of that nearly 20-hour day I learned a lot. Yes, about horses and rodeos, but also about family and community. St. Paul is a small town that hosts the nation’s largest Fourth of July rodeo, and it was a treat to get a glimpse of the hard work that everyone pours into the event. Including the court.


The three young women – Melanie, Morgan and Britney – are smart and funny, hardworking and dedicated. Being on the court is more than looking pretty and waving. They needed exceptional horsemanship skills, a large knowledge base of rodeo history, and the ability to work a crowd and make conversation with everyone from the smallest fans to the oldest community members.


Watching the camaraderie between the three – who met when they tried out for the court, and have now spent months together traveling across the state – was great fun. I would also be remiss if I didn’t mention how welcoming their families and friends were; the court continuously told me they couldn’t have done the job without their family. I can see why.



In short, I couldn’t have asked for a better group to work with. There are always things I wish I could improve on, always things I wish I’d done better. But I came away excited again about work and making images, and that is such an invaluable feeling.



2016 in Review: A Year on Staff

So my 2016 review is being published a few days into 2017, but I’ve got a good reason (I think). Yesterday I completed one year as a full-time staffer at a daily newspaper. And even in the last day or two, I’ve shot two assignments that made it into this review – so I figure that’s a good justification for leaving it until a year to the day.

365 days. Mix in the weekends – when I still thought about this job, edited for this job, planned for this job – and I’ve been a staffer every day for a year. I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating that there were many days when I thought I’d never get here.

On the way, I’ve made many friends. I’ve learned a number of things about photojournalism and myself and what it means to be a full-time employee. I’ve remembered why I’ve loved photojournalism since I was a sophomore in high school; I’ve remembered why it’s given me many headaches and sleepless nights.

Here are my moments from 2016. I hesitate to call it a best-of, because one thing I learned this year is that I’m not always the best self editor. I have a bad habit of picking photos for the moments they remind me of, for fleeting feelings that don’t always translate. I hesitate to “kill my darlings,” as they say. That’s a goal of mine for 2017: edit myself better, and reach out to my many resources for a more critical eye.

With that in mind, here are some of the things I saw in 2016. And here’s to another, better year.








And a small shout out to one of the best things I ran into on assignment this year, Samantha the Bernese Mountain Dog. Her owners are also pretty great. And yes, a puppy really is one of the highlights of my year. Just look at her.
Photo by Michael Cary Arellano



Catching up to U.S. Olympic track

I’m still behind on blog posts for the year and working to catch up. Some of the images are a little past their shelf life now – this set is from July, after all – but I wanted to share a few anyways.

Back in July I got a chance to go to the U.S. Olympic Team Track and Field Trials in Eugene, where the best track and field athletes from around the country came to compete for spots on the U.S. Olympic Team.

The athletes weren’t the only ones at the top of their game that week. I found myself sitting next to photographers for Sports Illustrated, The New York Times, the AP, The Register-Guard… you name it, they were probably there. And many have photographed track and field longer than I’ve been alive, or have been at Hayward Field so many times they know it like the back of their hand. I’ll admit that it’s intimidating to sit next to such talent and know it’s only the second time I’ve set foot in Hayward, and one of maybe a half-dozen times that I’ve photographed track in the last eight years.

Thankfully I had some room to experiment and try different angles, as the paper had been planning to run wire images for the duration of the trials. It took a bit of the pressure off me, knowing that if I failed it wasn’t the end of the world. I tried some angles that didn’t work out, shot some pan-blurs that didn’t go as planned, and made a whole lot of other images that won’t see the light of day. But you know what? I’m glad I tried some things out of my comfort zone. I’m even more glad I’ll have time to practice these things before the next big track event. So often I am afraid to take risks in case I miss the critical shot. But if I practice these things, they become less about a blind risk and instead become another tool I can use. So, here’s to trying. Sometimes you might come in last place, but the journey is (at the very least) half the fun.



Throwback: Australia

It’s been a year to the day since I returned from my summer in Australia. As with many things, that feels both so recent and still so far away.

I was working for Rustic Pathways, who I also worked with in Southeast Asia two years ago. It’s hard to explain what exactly Rustic does, because there is so much wrapped up in it, but the short story is that it’s a travel company for high school students. They work with local communities to offer immersive, educational travel programs, many with service components. As a photographer for the company, I was responsible not only for taking photographs but also taking care of the students.

I always intended to post this last round of images from Australia when I returned to the U.S., but several things held me back. The same as when I left Asia, it was almost too hard to look at the photos again. I both missed my travels but was happy to be home; I was still processing everything I had learned but also figuring out what my next move would be.

Coming home after Rustic always left me a little lost. You spend all summer working with teenagers and co-workers who both inspire you and challenge you – and who you will probably never see again. You come home to people that don’t understand the experiences you’ve just been through, and there’s no way to put it into words.

So I let myself put off the final blog post I had planned in a series of three (parts one and two here). I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t know what to show. And then it felt like it had been too long to post them. With the year anniversary of my return looming, I decided to look through the folder of images again.

What I found are the images I have replayed over and over in my head for the last year – a whirlwind final 9 days in which I traveled from the Great Barrier Reef to Uluru to Sydney with two co-workers I loved and a fantastic group of students. I haven’t forgotten the images I looked out for this blog. I just didn’t have the words to put to it.

What I was really grappling with was, that was probably the last summer I’ll travel with Rustic Pathways. I love the work, but it’s a challenging thing to drop your life every summer to go abroad and then come back basically unemployed again. It felt like going back to square one. I knew that it would probably be my last time when I went to Australia. I knew that when I returned. But I don’t think it really hit me until this summer. It’s the first I’ve spent stateside in three years, and I’ve seen all my co-workers, friends and students from previous summers back out there traveling. And it’s not like I’ve been “stuck” here. I’m living in a place I love, I have a great life here, I have a job in an industry I spent many years dreaming about. But the wanderlust still pulls me, as I think it does for every Rustic traveler. That’s why we keep going back. The promise of more places to discover, more people to meet, more connections to experience.

Safe travels to my friends out there. I know many of you are returning home this month, and I know it can be both a wonderful and difficult time. Here’s to the last days of my summer down under.


This is one of the last photos I took in Australia. It’s not my favorite image by far, but it was a special moment for me. It’s self portrait taken only hours before I boarded a plane home. My friend and mentor Jose Lopez always encourages us to take self portraits – it was the first assignment he gave us at the New York Times Institute a few years ago. That was the first time I’d taken one, and this is only the second one since that assignment. But as I ran through this park in Sydney at 4 a.m. trying to catch the sunrise over the Harbor Bridge (the image above this one), I thought so much about all of the lessons Jose has taught me. And I thought, what the heck. Just one. You have a few minutes. So I set the camera down, ran to this spot, and gazed up, looking into the future and also at the last Australian night sky I would see.

Sweet light at the rodeo

It’s summertime in Oregon and we’ve had a very busy few months at the paper. Between various staff vacations, extra events and the nice weather, there’s a lot going on. One of my favorite recent assignments was the Santiam Canyon Stampede, a small rodeo east of Salem. It kicked off at 7 p.m. so I was hoping for great light – and it did not disappoint.

Planning to crank out quite a few blogs in the next few weeks, here’s to the first of many! And here’s to the rodeo, one of my favorite things to photograph.