Nikkor AIS
Nikkor AIS
Who says I'm never going to make any money with my little project? Perhaps I'll do a book. One thing for sure is I'm not going to sit around and expect the world to lie down at my feet. So now I'm the problem 🙄? How is that? I'm hustling and busting my ass documenting and being out in the field, while you're at home sitting in front of your computer, and you're telling me I'm the problem. That's rich. I will just stay on point with my little project. I sit at my computer as well, but only to get stories out and engage in self-promotion. The counterpoint is the thousands of hours I've spent out in the field being eaten by mosquitoes and burned by the sun during our short summer, and nearly frozen to death in the winter? If you only knew the miles and miles I've driven in pursuit of my project. Not to mention the gear needed to document the world as "I" see it. It's interesting to note that many of my long lenses came from newspapers upgrading to AF. The Leicas came from a photographer who "had to get a M9" he probably won't use either.

I've wrecked two cars and I don't even want to think about the gas or the time. Not to mention having my car broken into and losing a trunk full of gear. So if you're looking for a shoulder to cry on, you're not going to find it here. Take yesterday, for instance. My car is still in the shop from kissing a curb on the way when I was on my way to take some pictures. Do I sit at home and whine? No, I walk a couple of miles with the Nikkor 800 5.6 IF-ED AIS and monopod, looking for wildlife before it's all gone. No time to waste.

Nikkor 800 5.6 IF-ED AIS with TC-14C on D3, mounted on a Wimberley head and monopod.
Shot of a blue heron spearing a small furry animal (I think it was a baby muskrat) at a local pond.
It's funny, I rarely if ever see any other photojournalist in my travels. It's just me and the birds after the storm; the flowers in the field that will soon be scraped over and then turned into a parking lot; mud to my ankles and I'm soaked to the bone ... all to get the pictures. No one cares but me about how I personally suffer to do what I do. If I didn't think it was worth it, I would do something else. Like cage fighting or ...OO, whatever.
But I do think it's worth it.

Local wetland after a summer storm. It is now a new subdivision.


Another shot taken at a local pond. The land at the fringes of the city is for sale. This habitat is marked for death.

Local wildflowers on an abandoned farm now for sale and waiting to be "developed."

The same area. Notice the chemicals/paint/God knows what else left to leach into the ground.

Train wreck in Balzac, Alberta. This image was published in the local paper.
Not many 8 mm 2.8 fish-eye pictures get published in the papers.
I hope I'm pissing you off. I hope I'm making you mad. "But, but, but we're photojournalists." If you're bitching about the death of photojournalism, you're prima donnas and I know you well. Think your **** doesn't stink? Everybody's does. Cowboy up. No one cares. Least of all me. Don't be laying the "I've got kids to feed" on me. I've got children and you've got to do what it takes to keep them fed. Looking for sympathy? I'm the wrong guy.
Sorry if you're insulted by me saying you're whining. Use it as motivation. Suck it up and get to work. There are plenty of paying gigs out there if you're willing to hustle. What you guys want is for the world to lie down at your feet or bow to you because you have a camera. Hate to break it to you but it's not going to happen. Everyone has a camera. You're not special or unique. You're a dime a dozen. Just like me. Get over it. What is important is that the stories get told.
And I'll tell you something. Editors are tits. I figured that one out when I started in photojournalism over 25 years ago. The photojournalists whom I looked up to and considered "gods" were in the same situation that exists now. When I was still green and good to go, they told me that "the hours are long, the money is **** and the editors never use the best photos." Nothing has changed, near as I can tell. The pressure from competition can be a noose around your neck or a sharp stick in your ass to get you out there. Can't sell your pictures? Take ones that will sell.
Start a blog, sell advertising. Promote your name whenever you can. But keep doing and taking the images that are important to you.
It's going to get worse, not better. Especially if you let the ******s get you down. To me there is no excuse. Get the picture.




Gregory Rogalsky

I've wrecked two cars and I don't even want to think about the gas or the time. Not to mention having my car broken into and losing a trunk full of gear. So if you're looking for a shoulder to cry on, you're not going to find it here. Take yesterday, for instance. My car is still in the shop from kissing a curb on the way when I was on my way to take some pictures. Do I sit at home and whine? No, I walk a couple of miles with the Nikkor 800 5.6 IF-ED AIS and monopod, looking for wildlife before it's all gone. No time to waste.

Nikkor 800 5.6 IF-ED AIS with TC-14C on D3, mounted on a Wimberley head and monopod.
Shot of a blue heron spearing a small furry animal (I think it was a baby muskrat) at a local pond.
It's funny, I rarely if ever see any other photojournalist in my travels. It's just me and the birds after the storm; the flowers in the field that will soon be scraped over and then turned into a parking lot; mud to my ankles and I'm soaked to the bone ... all to get the pictures. No one cares but me about how I personally suffer to do what I do. If I didn't think it was worth it, I would do something else. Like cage fighting or ...OO, whatever.
But I do think it's worth it.

Local wetland after a summer storm. It is now a new subdivision.


Another shot taken at a local pond. The land at the fringes of the city is for sale. This habitat is marked for death.

Local wildflowers on an abandoned farm now for sale and waiting to be "developed."

The same area. Notice the chemicals/paint/God knows what else left to leach into the ground.

Train wreck in Balzac, Alberta. This image was published in the local paper.
Not many 8 mm 2.8 fish-eye pictures get published in the papers.
I hope I'm pissing you off. I hope I'm making you mad. "But, but, but we're photojournalists." If you're bitching about the death of photojournalism, you're prima donnas and I know you well. Think your **** doesn't stink? Everybody's does. Cowboy up. No one cares. Least of all me. Don't be laying the "I've got kids to feed" on me. I've got children and you've got to do what it takes to keep them fed. Looking for sympathy? I'm the wrong guy.
Sorry if you're insulted by me saying you're whining. Use it as motivation. Suck it up and get to work. There are plenty of paying gigs out there if you're willing to hustle. What you guys want is for the world to lie down at your feet or bow to you because you have a camera. Hate to break it to you but it's not going to happen. Everyone has a camera. You're not special or unique. You're a dime a dozen. Just like me. Get over it. What is important is that the stories get told.
And I'll tell you something. Editors are tits. I figured that one out when I started in photojournalism over 25 years ago. The photojournalists whom I looked up to and considered "gods" were in the same situation that exists now. When I was still green and good to go, they told me that "the hours are long, the money is **** and the editors never use the best photos." Nothing has changed, near as I can tell. The pressure from competition can be a noose around your neck or a sharp stick in your ass to get you out there. Can't sell your pictures? Take ones that will sell.
Start a blog, sell advertising. Promote your name whenever you can. But keep doing and taking the images that are important to you.
It's going to get worse, not better. Especially if you let the ******s get you down. To me there is no excuse. Get the picture.




Gregory Rogalsky
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