The Instinctual Lens: Buenos Aires
Travel can be a true run-and-gun scenario for capturing images, forcing you to move fast and rely on instinct.
Street Photography and the Art of Capturing the Moment
Over the years, I had the privilege of traveling to many international cities. On occasion, I’ve traveled for client work, most recently, a small group travel company. Even though my main goal on these trips was to capture beautiful marketing photos for my client, I found myself drawn to the art of street photography.
Street photography and travel go hand in hand, in my opinion. Travel photography is documentary in nature and street photography is a style of documentary photography. Often while traveling for this type of client work, the speed at which I need to visit and move through places requires me to move quickly to capture images.
Travel can be a true run-and-gun scenario for capturing images, forcing you to move fast and rely on instinct. This skill taps directly into my past experience as a wedding photographer.
Events on a wedding day unfold quickly, and no matter how much planning is done to prepare, a photographer often must move quickly and rely on their instincts to capture the images that best narrate the day. It is the same with travel and street photography—move fast, ‘feel’ your settings, rely on instincts.
Street photography is indeed a practice and I’ve spent years developing this skill. Not by a long shot am I an excellent street photographer. I still have much to learn. But I know I’ll spend years continuing to hone this skill. Nothing beats the thrill of capturing a truly stunning split-second in a place you might never visit again.
This collection of images is from a recent trip to Buenos Aires, Argentina. It was my first trip to the country, and only my second time visiting South America. The city of Buenos Aires surprised me in its vast sprawl and unexpectedly beautiful architecture.
But maybe more significantly, Buenos Aires felt like a city going about its business. The city and its inhabitants simply absorbed us, folded us in like we were one of them, just another body moving through the flow of everyday life. This immersive experience enabled me fantastic viewpoints of what felt like daily life in the city.
I’ll let the photos speak for themselves. I find there is no need to explain them. Every frame is a slice of daily life.
Thanks for reading along. If you’re interested in travel that’s a little less polished, a little less planned, and a lot more focused on the feeling of being in a place, subscribe to Waypoints. Paid subscribers receive an exclusive discount on all prints and products in the shop.
Let's wander a little slower, and see what we find.
Lindsey A. Miller
Flânerie with me in Reykjavík
A Photo Series: Observations of Reykjavík Life from a Passionate Spectator.
A Photo Series: Observations of Reykjavík Life from a Passionate Spectator.
In June 2022, I traveled to Iceland for the first time. As you might imagine, the landscapes and natural wonders the island nation is known for were simply breathtaking. However, the time I spent in the city of Reykjavík awarded me with some of my favorite photos of the trip.
I am at heart an observer of life (I am a photographer, after all.) And I have discovered over the years, I have a passion for street photography, especially while traveling. To me, the glimpses into daily life of a city or town are the most honest representation of a culture, and far more authentic than the bustle of the local tourist spots.
These photos were taken in June of 2022, during The Midnight Sun that stretches from May until July north of the Arctic Circle. The idea of a golden hour lasting for hours was captivating. Sunset did indeed seem to go on forever. It was a photographer’s dream.
Thanks for reading along. If you’re interested in travel that’s a little less polished, a little less planned, and a lot more focused on the feeling of being in a place, subscribe to Waypoints. Paid subscribers receive an exclusive discount on all prints and products in the shop.
Let's wander a little slower, and see what we find.
Lindsey A. Miller
Sounds from the Mellowdrome
In March of 2021, I had just relocated to Asheville, NC. Living in the Southeast for most of my adult life, I had been to Asheville many times and fallen in love with its beauty, its history, and the access to abundant nature. The move was somewhat unexpected after some personal upheaval during the tumultuous year that was 2020 and I was so excited to finally call this place home.
Words for recovery
In March of 2021, I had just relocated to Asheville, NC. Living in the Southeast for most of my adult life, I had been to Asheville many times and fallen in love with its beauty, its history, and the access to abundant nature. The move was somewhat unexpected after some personal upheaval during the tumultuous year that was 2020 and I was so excited to finally call this place home.
I’ve moved quite a few times in my adult years and I’ve developed a pattern to learning my new surroundings that is much like how I travel. Frequently, it’s as simple as just getting out and exploring—turning down a street I’ve never been down before and seeing what’s next. I discovered the Mellowdrome much like this.
Carrier Park is one of Asheville’s few city parks and is situated along the French Broad River at the base of the city. Inside the park, the Mellowdrome sits just up from the river’s edge. When I first visited the park and saw this enclosed rink, I had no idea what I was seeing, I’d never encountered a mellowdrome before.
The Mellowdrome was full of cyclists logging laps on the track, roller skaters making their way around the edge, families languidly walking with strollers, and people crossing the foot bridge with sporting equipment in tow to access the playground, hockey rinks, and volleyball courts in the rink’s center.
I was charmed by the busy park and by how much the community seemed to love the Mellowdrome’s activities. I eventually joined the community and spent much time in the park during my tenure in Asheville. I spent many afternoons walking along the river banks, cycling the trails, and spreading a blanket to grab some sunshine in the hot summer months. But after a two-year stay, I have since moved away. And although I no longer call Asheville home, it will always leave an impression on my heart.
For those not aware, Asheville and many other places in Western North Carolina and Southeastern Tennessee experienced devastating flooding from Hurricane Helene in September 2024. Carrier Park and The Mellowdrome were some of the countless places that unfortunately suffered major damage from the flooding. To my knowledge, they are both still closed awaiting cleanup and repairs.
I have yet to return to the Asheville area since the storm, but I do have plans to visit later this spring. I have mixed emotions about returning. I have a deep desire to return to a place I called home for two years, and to help the community heal and rebuild in any way that I can. But I don’t want to be mistaken for a “disaster tourist,” or someone showing up to gawk at the damage.
Recovery is a difficult balance. While many of the Western North Carolina cities and surrounding areas are open and ready for seasonal tourism to start up again, there is still a lot of destruction and pain in the region. It is a challenge to support the places I know and love by traveling there, yet also be respectful for all the life-changing damage that has been done.
Below is my first impression of The Mellowdrome in March of 2021. At a time when the world was collectively coming out of unprecedented disaster, I find my words to be fitting for the current recovery that Asheville and much of Western North Carolina and Eastern Tennessee are still working towards.
Mellowdrome, Asheville, NC | 2021
I’m walking along the edge of recreational buzz — basketball, volleyball, a roller hockey game, rollerbladers, cyclists, families kicking soccer balls.
It’s the end of the day, the kids are walking off the rink, carrying skates and sticks, talking with their mom about dropping 6th period, listening to music streaming through a Bluetooth speaker.
It’s dusk, the streetlights aren’t on yet. The air is full of energy, that buzz that exists at the turning of a season, this one, winter into spring. It’s that energy that makes you feel like there is so much more to come, like there is so much good up ahead.
I observe all this in a few dense moments and suddenly I’m overwhelmed with gratitude, hope, and a renewed love for where I find myself. This is just another stop on my journey. It may be for longer than my last few stops, but that’s ok. I need some stability. And this place seems like a good place to spend some time.
The air is ripe with energy, there is so much good up ahead.
Lindsey A Miller | 2021
Thanks for reading along. If you’re interested in travel that’s a little less polished, a little less planned, and a lot more focused on the feeling of being in a place, subscribe to Waypoints. Paid subscribers receive an exclusive discount on all prints and products in the shop.
Let's wander a little slower, and see what we find.
Lindsey A. Miller
36 Hours in Denver, 2018
In 2018, I decided to experiment with dirt-cheap back-to-back ticketing on Frontier Airlines. I was living in Atlanta, I had a friend in Austin, my sister was in Portland, and I could stitch the destinations together with an overnight in Denver. Knowing Denver had rail from the airport to city center, I figured I could make a fun overnight trip out of the layover.
An archives project
In 2018, I decided to experiment with dirt-cheap back-to-back ticketing on Frontier Airlines. I was living in Atlanta, I had a friend in Austin, my sister was in Portland, and I could stitch the destinations together with an overnight in Denver. Knowing Denver had rail from the airport to city center, I figured I could make a fun overnight trip out of the layover.
36 Hours in Denver, 2018 (1 of 3)
This wasn’t my first time in Denver, but it was my first opportunity to explore beyond the hotels and conference centers of professional obligations. I made no plans other than booking an Airbnb in the Highland neighborhood and planning to take public transport (and the odd rideshare.)
36 Hours in Denver, 2018 (2 of 3)
I covered a surprising amount of ground in the sprawling city: Union Station, Highland Cable Bridge, The R.E.I. Flagship Store, The Denver Art Museum, City Park, and I even got myself out to Red Rocks to see the beautiful rock formations with out the crowds.
36 Hours in Denver, 2018 (3 of 3)
This brief layover ended up becoming one of my favorite trips to date and firmly solidified my love of flâneur-style travel and Street Photography. You can view the entire “36 Hours in Denver, 2018” photo series in beautiful, full-size images at my here.
Thanks for coming along for the ride on this spontaneous project delving into the depths of my personal archives. If you’re interested in travel that’s a little less polished, a little less planned, and a lot more focused on the feeling of being in a place, subscribe to Waypoints. Paid subscribers receive an exclusive discount on all prints and products in the shop.
Let's wander a little slower, and see what we find.
Lindsey A. Miller