Skiers navigate a course in the mountain cluster at the 2014 Sochi Winter Olympics.
With the opening ceremonies for the 2014 Sochi Winter Olympics still two days away, there isn’t much in the way of actual competitive events happening just yet. Sure, there’s practice sessions to be had, but these obviously don’t count for anything, and the images aren’t as storytelling when there’s nothing on the line.
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Freestyle skiing athlete Heidi Kloser (USA) falls during a training session at the Rosa Kuhtor Extreme Park.
Even at the Winter Olympics, where athletes and photographers alike gather with their “a-game” ready to shine, practice still makes perfect. And so, with today being a day for athletes to take the courses and try things on for size, us photographers took a similar approach. My day was spent scouting the Rosa Kuhtor Extreme Park, figuring out which angles and positions would work best for the events I’ll be shooting there, as well as shooting a practice session of ladies and mens freestyle moguls.
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So, wait. You mean they don’t have travel-sized bottles of laundry detergent? Of course not, why would they? Yes, hunting for the smallest bottle of Tide in the grocery aisle marked my beginning of photographing the 2014 Sochi Winter Olympics – with not a single camera in sight.
Like transmissions across an 1800’s telegraph from the wild wild west (or east, in this case), the cryptic Facebook messages from my colleague and Olympics roommate J.D. Mercer, who had just arrived on the ground in Sochi, began to stream across my Facebook chat window. “Apartment is nice, full kitchen
Posted in
Photography,
Photojournalism,
Sochi Winter Olympics,
Travel on February 2nd, 2014.
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The sun sets over the Riggin Barn on E. Riggin Road in Muncie, Ind., after severe thunderstorms inundated the area, Sunday, November 17, 2013. The outbreak of unseasonable thunderstorms spawned several tornados throughout the state of Indiana, including one in nearby Kokomo.
On the eve of my birthday (or “Guy Eve” as the day has become colloquially known in my inner circles), my mother was kind enough to bake me a birthday cake (a day early, since I’ll be spending my actual birthday jetting across the country for lighting work). The finished cake, sitting proudly on the kitchen table, was topped with two candles in the shape of a three and two. 3-2. Thirty-two.
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