The threat of theft is a serious concern for any photographer, especially for those of us who've invested a good amount of money into our camera systems. Though a lot can be accomplished using some common sense, it's not always possible to keep an eye on your equipment, especially when you are in the midst of a shoot.

My equipment closet is where camera bags go to die. Empty except for a stray body cap or an expired roll of film (yes, some of the bags are that old!), they consist of all types of bags: shoulder bags, backpacks, slingbags and more. At some point, they held the promise of being the definitive bag, the last bag that I would ever need. That of course is a fool's errand, because realistically the best bag is like the best lens. It's only the best when it's the right choice for the job.

In today's digital world, the end game for most photography is the computer screen. Whether it's on Facebook, Flickr, or some other photo sharing service, the reality is that fewer prints are being made even by those photographers who consider themselves serious enthusiasts or even professionals. I have to count myself among the many photographers who have found themselves making fewer and fewer prints.

I was on my way to Cambria for a photo workshop that some dear friends were holding when I stopped in Santa Barbara. As I never leave my equipment in my car, I opened up the trunk to remove the bag when I realized it wasn't there. It's often the very last thing I pack into the car, but this time I had walked right past it in the hallway as I walked out the door. The only camera and lens I had were the ones that I had slung over my shoulder.

Everyone has heard the saying, "If it sounds too be good to be true, it probably is". However, it's an expression of common sense that sometimes gets lost in the fever of hunting for a bargain for a new camera or lens. I don't know of anyone who doesn't hope to save some money when investing hundreds if not thousands of dollars on photographic gear. This isn't a cheap hobby or profession. So, it's practical to want to find the best deal possible. The problem comes when the satisfaction of saving a couple of dollars is replaced with aggravation and remorse. That's why it's so important to understand the concept of gray market.

The best moments that I have as a street photographer are when I let go of any expectation of what I expect to photograph. It seems antithetical to not make a mental list of possible subject matter, but it's the choice to make my mind a blank slate, which allows me to see and actually make a good photograph. During my early years as a photographer, I would load my camera bag with an arsenal of cameras, lenses and accessories prepared for every possibility. Yet, I would come back home with nothing to show for it. I justified this lack of productivity by believing that I just hadn't found anything worthy of being photographed.

There are times when my best photographs of people don't include their faces. It seems quite antithetical to not include the most identifying quality of a subject, their face, but there have been times when it is their hands that reveal something unique. When I photographed this painter in Mexico, I initially took an overall portrait of him, but I wasn't completely happy with the result. I was drawn by the quality of light on him, but the resulting image was not particularly inspiring. I moved in a little tighter and filled the frame with his face, but that image was still lackluster.

When it comes to photographing people, I like getting up close and personal. Though I first started making images of people from a distance with a telephoto lens, I quickly found that getting close with a moderate to wide-angle lens provided me images, which were both impactful and intimate. However, getting past the fear of approaching someone with little more than a 35mm lens between us was intimidating.

I photograph a lot of people that I don’t know. My choice to be a street photographer is often about the people I have the opportunity to meet as well as the images that I can make. I never know what to expect when I take to the street, camera in-hand, and this is especially the case when it comes to the people I may meet.

Frustration. It’s a big part of what I do, whether I like it or not. Today, I’m sitting down to edit and post a new episode of my podcast, The Candid Frame, when I discover that the sound from my recorded audio interview is not coming through. No more than a few minutes before, it came through loud and clear on my headphones and next, there is nothing more than a whispering echo. The resulting feelings of anger and depression feel like repeated punches to the chest.

I repeat it like a mantra over and over again to the photographers who have joined me to discover and document Downtown Los Angeles for the Walking in the Company of Strangers workshop (www.blackbootsink.com).