I try to avoid showing my age, just because I don't think it's relevant to my work. But then I realize it is very relevant to my work, and the foundations it was built upon, so finding 25 year old work is still up on the internet is one such moment.

Imagine my happiness when I recently discovered one of my first online exhibits is still up nearly 25 years after it was posted? With the tiny file sizes and basic design and fonts that only worked in the age of dial-up Internet? Zone Zero was one of the earliest portfolio websites, created by Pedro Meyer in Mexico, and that's still going strong today. The work he showed was from a 3 year project photographing Kyoto called KYOTOLAND, a project I plan on self publishing soon - the edit shown in 2001 was from the earliest stages of the work and only a few of the images have made the final book design.

I built my first website in 1997 shortly after moving to Japan, using HTML 1, uploading to the Japanese web service GOL - I was, in the world of photojournalism, a pioneer! That site has been lost in time, I always wished I'd saved it, but my URL and email have remained the same for 28 years now. One of the great things about freelancing is you often get weeks, sometimes months, with little to no work so web design, and some self-promotion, often filled those hours. It's something I wish more editorial photographers understood - most commercial photographers understand design and the need to promote themselves beyond their little bubble but such concerns are often anathema to many editorial photographers.

After three years, and a long summer of writing and editing, writer Mark Jenkins and I have crafted what we are still calling an idea for a book. We’ve printed out 30 copies using Blurb’s self-publishing tools and have started sending them out to agents, editors and publishers. We used their trade book format, suggested by Blurb’s print evangelist, and my old friend, Dan Milnor, which I highly recommend for anyone looking to make their own books. We are always open to any ideas and suggestions on places we can submit.

OKLAHOMA DRIFT - CHASING BOB DYLAN’S AMERICA

When singer and songwriter Bob Dylan turned over his lifetime archives to a small museum in Tulsa, Oklahoma, we, like countless other fans, asked, Why Tulsa and why Oklahoma? The two of us - Mark as a professional writer/dramatist and Stuart as a professional photographer - set out on a journey to discover the answer. Three years and thousands of miles later, the answer to that question is this book. We hope to find an agent or publisher who sees its potential and can bring their own passion, along with editing and design skills, to the project. Its blend of photography and essay was consciously inspired by the classic Let Us Now Praise Famous Men, with writer and photographer working as equals, along with the chance encounters of Saint-Exupery's flying days, as well as Steinbeck's Travels With Charley. Stylistically, we attempted to emulate the vivid elegance of Joseph Mitchell's chronicles in The New Yorker of that city's characters and outliers, such as "Mazie," the ticket booth attendant at The Venice Theater.

Recently found footage of me at work in Rangoon photographing Burmese opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi. So odd seeing this after 28 years. We spent many days outside Daw Suu's house, in the sweltering heat, crushing crowds, juggling rolls of film and racing to make deadlines transmitting or shipping film out to New York.

Even though I don't do this kind of photojournalism work anymore (I still work on long term documentary projects), it was an excellent training ground for the work I do today.

"Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now"

- Bob Dylan, "My Back Pages".

Sapeoun, aka Gino, posing (left) on the side of a road outside Bakersfield, California in October, 1993. In the photograph on the right, Gino stops briefly to let me take his portrait in Tacoma, Washington this week, almost exactly 30 years later. Stories like Gino's are why I became a photographer - a survivor of America's war in Southeast Asia, the Khmer Rouge genocide, a refugee, a member of some of the toughest Cambodian street gangs in the US. Someone whose life was shaped by war, genocide and trauma, but who has survived despite the odds stacked against him. Continues below.

When your work gets immortalized in manga! Singapore based sneaker customization artist Bob Ng at No-Brainer*, recently turned one of my images from a 1999 bozosoku biker gang riot in Hiroshima into a manga. Needless to say, my 13 year old kid (and a manga fan) is impressed! read more about Bob's design work here.

The view 100 feet above my home in Seattle after rains passed through. I am loving my new Mavic 3 Pro drone - greatly improved file size and tonal range, good colors. Manually stitched panorama, shot with RAW files and assembled in Lightroom. Onwards and upwards!

By the spring of 1995, I was already a year into my so-called photography "career". I had started well apparently - fresh out of a photography graduate program in 1994 in Chicago, my first assignment was a three week assignment with the legendary editor Kathy Ryan at The New York Times Magazine, hired on the basis of a project on Cambodian gangs I did in the US. By June of 1994 I had moved to Bangkok with my then girlfriend, and now my wife, Jennifer, and I had plans to base myself there and learn the ropes. Within weeks I had assignments with The New York Times in Malaysia, Thailand and Burma. Wow, this is easy!

Then the phone stopped ringing. For a year.

I had to sell my workhorse 80-200mm lens to pay rent. I went back to teaching English at the same school I had worked at in Bangkok in 1988 when I lived there as a student studying Thai. I did a few random assignments for the Associated Press but had no clue what they needed or how to deliver the work and was clearly not cut out for wire work. Even though our rent was only $160 a month, by May of 1995 I was close to quitting photography when a friend suggested I go to northeast Thailand, often called Isarn, and photograph the rocket festival they have there at the beginning of every rainy season. I had so little money, I had to take the cheapest, non-air conditioned bus from Bangkok, the one that stopped at every village along the entire ride, which was close to 14 hours. But the bus was filled with Isarn farmers returning home, drinking, singing and reveling the whole time. I was on the right track, and on the right bus. I was also part of the whiskey-bottle-and-fork rhythm section while my traveling companions sang and did ramwong folk dances in the aisle for most of the journey.

Ode to our neighborhood coffee shop, Herkimer Coffee shop on Greenwood Avenue here in Seattle. We’ve been taking the girls there since we moved to the neighborhood in 2008 - nothing like a hot chocolate and a sweet treat for them to allow me to take a few photos.

It's a lightstalkers dream too - large windows facing west on the top of a hill. The space is flooded with light, I've even used for an occasional photo shoot. The girls are older now and the sweet treats aren't enough to get them to let me take photos, but I saw a young dad in there with a 1 year old, and went archive digging for some of the better of the hundreds of images I've taken there.

Herkimer also serves the best damn coffee in Seattle.

Happy to see Catfish books release a second edition of my book 'On the Corners of Argyle and Glenwood', this time with a beautiful yellow/gold outer sleeve! Order yours here.

"As a young graduate student in photography in the early 1990s, Stuart Isett found himself on the corners of Argyle and Glenwood streets in Chicago, photographing Cambodian refugees who had settled on the city’s north side near his apartment. Isett entered a world which would define his practice, spending much of the next 25 years working in South East Asia, often returning to work on issues affecting the Cambodian diaspora.

Nearly 30 years later, in collaboration with Cambodian-American activist Silong Chhun and Pete Pin, a Cambodian-American photographer, Isett revisited the Chicago work. Together they re-sequenced and contextualised the series. Chhun and Pin would have been the young boys in the back of the room in many of Isett’s images, watching their older siblings who were Isett’s main focus, as they struggled to adapt to life in America while burdened with the trauma of war and genocide.

Boeing's last 747 jumbo jet took off today from Paine Field, next to the Everett plant where the first 747 rolled out in 1969. I've spent hundreds of hours flying around the world on them since I was a little kid. The last plane may be out the door but we'll get to see them in the air for many decades to come. Bon voyage!

As Boeing prepares to roll out and deliver its final 747, a cargo version of the plane's final iteration, the 747-800, here's some images I've taken of its construction, delivery and first flight over the past decade. It will always be the most beautiful plane ever built, sleek and elegant, unlike its rather bloated rival the Airbus A380 which I also photographed being developed and built.

The first flight I remember taking? The Pan Am Clipper from London to New York on a Boeing 747-121. It was a flight that led to a lifelong fascination with airplanes and has taken me to the manufacturing floors of the world's leading airplane makers, as well as airports around the globe where I've learned to safely capture powerful and creative images in the brief time photographers are typically given to work around aircraft.

I only realized later that Joe Sutter is second from the left in the image to the right. I still kick myself for not getting a portrait of the 747s legendary architect. Joe passed away in 2016.

To this day, I still get excited when I see a 747 roll by while I wait at an airport gate with my family - it's hard to explain to my kids! The final delivery of a 747 is not just an aviation moment, it's also a cultural moment. It's the end of the era when we imagined flying could be adventurous and romantic, not mundane. I'm lucky to have experienced it.

My new bride after our honeymoon in New York, June 1997. Jennifer and I headed to the airport and our return flight to our home in Bangkok; a few months the later we moved to Tokyo. I've always loved this image but only recently got a decent scan of it, and love it more. My love, the light, the Twin Towers; our lives totally in limbo as we prepared to take the plunge and live in Japan.

Now it's two kids, a cat, mortgage, college 529s, bed by 930 pm. But watching a dear friend losing his wife of 30 years to cancer this week, puts it all in perspective. Jennifer is still fearless though.

• My love she speaks like silence

• Without ideals or violence

• She doesn't have to say she's faithful

• Yet she's true, like ice, like fire

- Bob Dylan, Love Minus Zero

Proud to have joined Dorothy Chan on her podcast "Death in Cambodia". Dorothy created the podcast to interview her father and talk about his experiences under the Khmer Rouge during the Cambodian genocide, exploring issues of trauma among Cambodian refugees in the US. It was in that context she wanted to talk about my work on Cambodian refugees in the early 1990s, along with Pete Pin and Silong Chhun who both helped create my book "On the corners of Argyle and Glenwood".

On every photographer's bucket list should be covering a good protest in Paris - mace, clowns, late night coq au vin, airborne cobblestones, washing teargas out of your eyes in fountains at Notre Dame at 1am. Watching them unfold again this month after President Macron's government rammed through retirement age changes, sent me archive digging for the riots that rocked the city in 2006 when the government attempted, and failed, to change labor laws. A month of tear gassing and macing later, the government backed down. We were still living in Paris at the time with our then 8 month old kid Zoe, so every evening I had to be careful not to wear maced or tear gassed clothing into the apartment; I'd bag it up at the apartment entrance before jumping into the shower to wash off any residue.

Travel writer and TV host Rick Steve's recently wrote that experiencing a strike or protest in France should be viewed not as a frustration, but as a cultural experience. The riots I covered also took me all over the city, late at night, and taught me how to copy protesters and learn to spot fountains in case I had to wash my eyes out after getting maced. Late night brasseries offering a glass of wine outside also allowed quick breaks when the action slowed down. Very civilized rioting by any measure.

....the more they stay the same. Except for the Duran Duran hair. I miss that. Photos taken in Ann Arbor, MI in 1987 and Seattle, WA, in 2023. One with a Nikon FA, a camera I used for a full decade. Most recent camera is the mirrorless Nikon Z7ii. It's not, of course, the camera (or hair) that makes the photographer.

Another question I always get asked as a photographer of a certain age (say, over 50) is whether I miss film. The answer is no, nope, never. I feel no nostalgia, no sentimentality, nothing. I realize that film is becoming cool again, and I say, go for it kids, but I used it for 25 years, mainly shooting slide film with an exposure latitude of about 1/2 stop, maximum. What does that mean? It means shooting in terrible, contrasty light, like the Cambodian jungle in December, was hard. Very hard. It meant having to carry multiple cameras with different speed films because you can’t simply change your ISO when the light shifts and the sun sets. Does well exposed film have lovely grain structure and colors? Sometimes. When the light is good and your exposures are perfect. But take it into tough situations, and you better have some serious skills.

The photographs below are from my last real film assignment in 2008 for Geo Magazine in Germany. I traveled with a Cambodian and French archeological team by car, motorcycle and foot through former Khmer Rouge territories in Preah Vihear that had been cut off by nearly 40 years of war, to map Angkorian temples and sites. For two weeks we humped through the jungle, me carrying bags of Provia 100 and Kodak E200 slide film, searching for and mapping sites, some only a few cut stones, some entire temples, still lost in the jungles. We used local guides to find the sites (and take us through mined areas) since these temple and sites were never really lost to the people in the area, only to scientists. The light was horrible once the sun came up. Dark and bright areas falling as the tropical sun fell through the trees onto people, trees and temples. I always worked my a Sekonic light meter around my neck, always updating light readings, bracketing by 1/2 stops when unsure.