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Tess Burick

@tesscb

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Sodium intake at an all-time high. Thanks @hotdogger.mtb for showing these Dusty Franks and Salty Dawgs a doggone good time 🌭🔥 taken in Fruita, Colorado by @tesscb

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19 days ago

When I decided to dip my toes into film I didn’t anticipate the relationship I’d find to the photos that didn’t develop. Rolls (many of them) have come back underexposed, blown out, or missing altogether (see: lessons in making sure there’s film in the camera). These photos have become a mental album unto themselves. Lingering moments I can still picture because film, for me, has also been a lesson in slowing down. It is patience, more noticing, anticipation, and the occasional heartache.

I shot three rolls on this last trip to Alaska, and only two came back. But they made for some beautifully slow afternoons taking in a change of seasons in Halibut Cove, answering Mary Oliver’s question of how to love this world by sticking our hands into thickets of raspberry bushes, plucking fresh oysters from a floating farm stand in Kachemak Bay, and coming to a still for the simple joy of watching an otter play. taken in Halibut Cove, Alaska by @tesscb

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a month ago

A big ol’ summer of sticking around by @tesscb

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2 months ago

It’s been five years since I first visited the Grand Canyon. Descending on foot through the tribal lands of the Havasupai people was wholly different from moving through those towering red walls at the pace of the Colorado River. Each trip is special in its own way, and I’m profoundly grateful to the Havasupai Tribe for this experience, while keenly aware of the risk of taking these places for granted.

The beauty of this place is spiritual in a way that a photograph can never capture. Perhaps returning to the canyon felt different because it is impossible to ignore that we are living in a time that is endlessly hostile to our public lands; especially in the West where our representatives continue to seek development and profit over public will to protect wild landscapes. Places like this that hold more meaning, purpose, and cultural identity than we could ever put a value to.

I’m not sure what the answer is to the moment we’re in. But I think there’s something to be said for pouring sand from your shoes, watching the sun creep down a canyon wall, wading through a travertine pool, and drifting to sleep to frog song that begs us to consider what kind of world we want to leave behind, and can continue moving us to action. taken in Havasupai Tribal Village by @tesscb

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5 months ago

January, February, March, and April days in no particular order. by @tesscb

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6 months ago

A full start to 34 ❄️☀️🌲 taken in Girdwood, Alaska by @tesscb

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7 months ago

First roll of film came back featuring the shortest days of the year. taken in Girdwood, Alaska by @tesscb

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9 months ago

Feeling grateful to end this year with two weeks of slow mornings, warm layers, family, and new adventures in a place that feels more and more like a second home. taken in Girdwood, Alaska by @tesscb

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10 months ago

A non-disposable summer. by @tesscb

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a year ago

I found myself thinking a lot about discernment as we neared our final days in the Brooks Range. Paddling 107 miles of the North Fork of the Koyukuk was a continuous practice of paying attention to the world around us, responding to our environment, and feeling both humble and foreign to this wild place.

We followed the bubbles in the river, moving where the current was quickest, and noticed subtle shifts in the wind. Moose tracks were often trailed by wolf paw prints, and the scarcity of birds told us the bears were likely fishing elsewhere. We listened to the mare’s tails and sun dog’s signals of coming weather and pushed long miles to give ourselves a layover day. We awoke to the pattering of rain. I became accustomed to deciphering the rustling of tents in their respective corners of camp from the warmth of my sleeping bag, and trusted in our diligence to minimize our trace. We played long hands of Monopoly Deal, spoke the common language of river trips (laughter), and somehow I got Honey Badger back to Bettles despite my uncoordinated paddling.

These moments feel profound because they remind me of a different way of being in the world. One that leaves me deeply fulfilled and grateful for the wonder that comes from venturing out to edge of the circle, as @brian.demarcus once described our comfort zones. To share this experience with my family, both chosen and extended, is a gift I can’t put words to. The first sunrise between Frigid Crag and Boreal Mountain, the smell of white spruce and birch in the rain, to watch my family fly into the Brooks Range filled with anticipation, are moments I’ll hold onto forever. taken in Gates of the Arctic National Park and Preserve by @tesscb

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a year ago

July ☀️🌻 by @tesscb

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a year ago

Get in there, let’s go @maggiemaryb @k.atiebates taken in Costa Rica by @tesscb

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2 years ago