Adventures of Tyler Brantley

I can’t believe January has already slipped away. It feels unreal how quickly time moves—one moment it’s New Year’s Day, and the next the month is already behind us. Time really does fly when life is full, meaningful, and moving.

We began the year in Nicaragua, spending a week at a breathtaking compound that I can only describe as Eden from Genesis. Our first day was at the beach, where the waves were massive and humbling in the best way. The following days were spent in the village, working alongside locals to pour concrete, build beds for families, distribute food, and pray with and over the community. The experience was deeply eye-opening. I often find myself revisiting the photographs I took during the trip—though many remain unedited. For now, it doesn’t feel like the right moment to return to them. Some images need time before they’re fully processed, both creatively and personally.

January also brought a new chapter professionally. I was offered a full-time position at Strawbridge Studios Inc., and I’m incredibly grateful for the stability and consistency this role brings. I’ve quickly grown comfortable with my coworkers, sharing meaningful conversations even in the middle of the rush season. While my commute is about thirty minutes, I’ve come to value that early morning time—listening to podcasts around 6:45 a.m. and watching the sunrise unfold has become a quiet, grounding ritual.

Looking ahead, February appears to be retreat-heavy, with the possibility of snow days sprinkled in. I’m genuinely looking forward to slowing down, body sledding, maybe even making snow cream, and growing closer with the other fellows. I also hope to be more intentional about capturing moments with people—including myself. As a photographer, it’s easy to forget that being present in the frame matters just as much as standing behind the camera.

This post may be shorter than usual, but January itself felt that way—brief, restorative, and necessary. It was a month marked by recovery, rest, and reconnection: with others, with my work, and with myself. Sometimes, that’s more than enough.