I do not recall the last time I read anything of worth not displayed on a backlit screen. One-hundred-ninety-six books sit idly on my shelves. Dust collects, is swept away, collects again. Wisdom from those as old as Seneca, as young as myself (perhaps younger, even), is left to rot. Text on the philosophy of death, of being and nothingness; thousands of words about the natural world; even more about the mind and its inner workings. Knowledge such as this should not go wasted.
This is Cody Schultz, and you're reading my monthly newsletter, Explorations. As always, one-click unsubscribe. One click, all done, goodbye. Otherwise, welcome.
Despite knowing this, I allow myself to return home each afternoon and spend my six-plus hours of free time rotting at my desk, then on the couch, then in bed. YouTube, Instagram, Reddit — my thumb tires from the scrolling. Yet I continue. Something must change. My list — although I oftentimes doubt it — is worth more than this. To spend six-and-a-half hours, on average, staring at a screen each day is sickening. There is so much to learn, to experience, that will yield more worthwhile pleasure than a smartphone could ever supply.
Craig Mod wrote this in his latest Ridgeline (217), in response to Daniel Kolitz’s essay on gooning:
We’re seeing goon variants play out across all facets of society and politics. Online sports betting and crypto are just two example of increasingly under-regulated markets that rhyme with jerking off for six hours a day. The more I think about Goonworld, the more I can’t unsee it everywhere.
Our obsessive use of smartphones, of “keeping up with the Joneses,” of sharing our every fleeting thought, is no better than what the gooners do. We all just want to chase that sweet dopamine, inject it directly in our frontal lobe.
Gooning aside, my attention has gone, in a positive way, to journaling. This year has been rough — the past two months, in particular — and I have consistently considered regular journaling as a way to cope for most of the year. I had journaled regularly in the past, and found it beneficial, but, up until a week or two ago, I couldn’t seem to get back into it. Most of my entries swing from my haphazard emotional state and my thoughts on the current state of education (also haphazard).
Reintroducing this daily practice has proven helpful not only for the processing of my thoughts but for the creation of a quasi-regular writing routine. Quasi, as it is not usually sustained writing but snippets, bite-sized thoughts. No matter — the work is thusly put in.
My thoughts on education revolve mostly on the generational gap between teachers (millennials, gen Z) and students (gen Alpha), and the profuse use of technology (and, consequently, artificial intelligence). At the moment, these thoughts are too infantile to share — least in a sensical manner. More research, and observation, is necessary. What I will say for now is this: If we do not drastically reshape our education system, we will be left with a severely undereducated generation of shallow thinkers.
Speaking of technology, the decision has been made to retire my MacBook Air (M1, 2020). A space black MacBook Pro (M4 Max, 2025) arrives Monday to replace it. After five years, the Air has begun to run about as well as Joe Swanson (or Lieutenant Dan, for those with more life experience), when scanning my large format negatives or attempting to work in Adobe Bloatroom. This is what makes the $4k spend difficult to swallow, however: During everyday use, the Air doesn’t break a sweat. When faced with heavier tasks, the measly 16gb of RAM can’t keep up. The enshittification of software will only make this worse. Add to this the combination of large working files and a 256gb hard drive and you are left with an endless barrage of notifications that my “scratch disks are full.”
If I were content with digital files and could eschew 4x5 for good, the Air would likely last another five years. Alas, this is not the case, and as I begin to work toward new projects, I cannot afford a stifled computer. So it goes with technology — more waste than can ever be consumed.
For the dorks interested in specs, here they are:
14” MacBook Pro — Space Black
64gb Unified Memory
Apple M4 Max chip w. 16-Core CPU, 40-Core GPU, 16-Core Neural Engine
1TB SSD Storage
Nothing fancy; it’ll get the job done for the next five years or so.
Being around people often makes me want to make love to a chainsaw, and these feelings naturally worsen the longer I am stuck among others. Parties, bars, weddings — I won’t be caught there for long, lest I’m dragged along by another, kicking and screaming. Why, then, would I subject myself to two weeks in a small Montana town where I would room with someone I’ve never before met in-person and attend a four-day workshop with strangers from around the world? More confusingly, why would I force myself to eat dinner and go out with these strangers, not once but multiple times?
Likely for the same reason I spent two weeks in Japan: to challenge myself and prove I am more than my anxiety makes me out to be.
The first few days in Livingston, MT were rough, to the point I almost changed my flight to be the day after the workshop ended. Japan proved I am able to acclimate to new environments relatively easily on my own. By maintaining my autonomy, I can base my decisions on my mental wellbeing. If my anxiety spikes, I adjust accordingly.
But since I was sharing an AirBnB and a rental car with Ben Lockett, my autonomy was nonexistent. I couldn’t decide, on a whim, to visit Yellowstone; I had to ensure he was open to going, too. Pair this with my habit of putting (most) people’s needs and desires before my own — and factoring in that this was Ben’s first time in the United States — I wanted to ensure he got out of this trip what he wanted. Luckily, we share similar photographic interests, which meant I still came away with a few decent photographs. Had I been on my own, I would have gone to similar places, albeit with more days reserved for hiking the various national forests and BLM land. After all, the woods are where I heal.
When the workshop rolled around, my anxiety abated in an unusual manner. Here I was, surrounded by nine strangers, and yet I felt…comfortable? Why? I’m still unsure. Perhaps because everyone is an artist, vibrating on a familiar frequency, one which I do not contend with. Getting dinner as a group that first evening helped set the mood and relax everyone, too. Within the first few hours of meeting each other, we knew our time together was going to be chill. Bryan Schutmaat’s humble nature, his willingness to not only share what he knows but, more importantly, to hang with the group as equals helped me most.
I didn’t alter my flight. After the workshop, Ben and I continued exploring back roads and abandoned towns. My anxiety remained but didn’t spike. Watching Bryan and a few others work with large format over the weekend sparked within me a desire to use my Chamonix again. I still made back-up photographs with the GFX but only because the large format lens I had with me didn’t allow for movements without vignetting. There’s only a composition or two where this was an issue — to the point I’ll utilize the digital files instead — but I’m happy to take the extra time rather than be sorry.
Per usual, I’m not fully wed to the idea of returning to 4x5. My Fuji GFX50s is a great camera that provides beautiful results without fail. However, no digital sensor can match — let alone beat — large format film, especially for portraits. And since my next project will lead me down a road where portraits and the landscape marry, I feel large format may be my best bet.
As we begin to close out 2025, my path forward is uncertain. So much has changed, for better and for worse. I will grapple with these changes for many months to come. There is a great deal of growing to be done, which I welcome despite the pain.
You’ll hear from me again sometime in mid-November, at which point I hope to have a small collection of my Montana work to share. If I cherish my time, this should be no issue. We all know the difficulty of such a simply stated task, however.
— C