I’ve recently returned to the sport of kayaking with a Feathercraft folding kayak. New York City has a extensive network of water trails, so there really is no need to practice the art of commando kayaking. On the other hand, I still retain a lot of that anti-authoritative mischievousness from my younger days and have no qualms with hopping over a fence or two with my backpack-able kayak, in order to access some pristine waterscape. As the waters around NYC slowly recover from their heavily polluted and dredged past, certain populations have exploded, becoming pests rather than points of pride. Unmanicured impromptu boat launches are often peppered with these shellfish which can cut right through the skin of my kayak like a thousand little serrated blades.

The Bribri, an indigenous tribe scattered about the border of Panama and Costa Rica, are forced to rely on the jungle flora like this for survival in a manner that we would refer to as ‘holistic medicine.’ For them it is simply poor man’s penicillin.

This is an “outtake” from a set of images I made in Szentendre, an artist community north of Budapest, Hungary. During the last few moments of autumn dusk, I found a glowing shop window display stuffed with loads of tungsten candles and surrounded by an ivy-like wall of grape vines. One of the best images I have made over the past five years was a part of this series, taken just minutes afterwards.