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An ad campaign for Target shot by Deanne Fitzmaurice, a Pultzer Prize-winning photographer who left the San Francisco Chronicle last year.

As we look around the photojournalism world today, it’s hard not to worry about one trend in particular: Newspapers, magazines, and wire services have been cutting pages, budgets, and staff positions, for years — and they’re not coming back. With fewer staff jobs to go around, more photographers than ever are deciding to work for themselves. Being the innovators that photographers are, they’re exploring new markets, new mediums, and new skill sets, especially those needed to run a business.

Some former staff photojournalists saw the writing on the wall long ago and now run their own thriving businesses. Many more have made strides in the last year or two, but still have a few questions — or they’re planning to make a move soon and have lots of questions.

Next week, August 10-14, RESOLVE will run five days of posts designed to answer these questions. Of course, no one person has the answer to all questions, especially the big ones about where the industry is going and how photography will continue to be profitable. But every photographer and editor and rep out there has the answer to one or two questions. That’s why we’ve asked as many as possible to share their experiences.

We’ve talked to dozens of former staff photographers working in a range of markets and will share their insights with you in daily posts next week. Each day we’ll also explore and explain an alternative market for photojournalists, including commercial assignments, wedding photojournalism, fine-art, and working with NGOs.

On top of that, an “expert of the day” will be available to answer questions in real-time as you ask them. They’re here to help, but we also need people will come together and help each other. We’ve heard about so much of this going on offline, we know you’ll have a lot to share here online as well.

If you are now or have ever been a staff photographer, please check in next week and join the discussion: ask a question, offer advice, and make some new contacts. If you’d like to contribute your thoughts about transitioning from a staff position, please email us this week: resolve [at] livebooks [dot] com. We’d love to hear from you and share your story (and website) with the community!

From Ryan's recent trek around Meili Xue Shan in Tibet. ©Ryan Pyle

For years I’ve been hiking in China, and just about any time I can squeeze out a few free days, I jump on a plane to Sichuan or Yunnan province, in Southwest China. I always shoot during my trips and have grown adept at both executing these treks and coming back with images suitable for a published story. In other words, I’m well versed in extreme altitude, extreme weather, and cameras.

So it was with delight that I took an assignment in June to document the religious mountain of Meili Xue Shan in Southeastern Tibet. The “holy mountain” is sacred to Tibetan Buddhists and is home to a kora, or “holy trek,” that is ranked China’s most difficult trek by the China Mountaineering Association. Pilgrims make the trek around the holy mountain, a complete circumnavigation that is said to cleanse the soul.

Sitting in my apartment in Shanghai, it was difficult to contemplate a ten-day, 300-kilometer trek through Tibet. A series of questions began running through my mind: How was I supposed to walk 12 hours a day and still make strong images? Was there a road? Was there mobile phone access? Was there electricity?

My first decision was to shoot film — digital just wasn’t going to cut it for this trip. Not only would electricity be scarce, but extreme temperature fluctuations would drain the batteries and potentially be too tough for my Canon 5D MII’s. So I dusted off my Canon 1Ns and bought 200 rolls of Fuji Provia. Luckily I already had all the gear, clothes, and footwear to attempt such a journey. Excitement was beginning to sink in.

A few days later, fear began to sink in, too. When I researched, I was disturbed by how little information existed about this trek, including crucial details like the length of the trek, it’s difficulty, and possible villages along the route. I was finally dug up two resources: a China Trekking site compiled by a person who had obviously never trekked in his/her life and a travel website by two German hikers who had done the trek 3-4 years earlier.

The Germans had estimated the kora to be around 300 km (185 miles), meaning that I needed to cover 15-to-20 miles a day to complete the trek in a reasonable amount of time. That meant I probably needed to sleep in a tent every night, cook my own food, and walk for 8-to-10 hours a day — at altitude — all while visually documenting the journey. Did I mention that each day was a vertical assent or descent? And that there are three passes over 4,500 meters (15,000 feet)? This was starting to sound like mission impossible.

I decided to travel with a writer for two reasons. First, we are very close friends and we’ve been hiking together in the Himalayas since well before either of us was getting published. Second, he is an expert in the region. It’s rare to find someone you can hike 12 hours a day with, for 10 days, and still be on speaking terms with, but we complement each other and I would never have considered going alone.

I knew to never go wandering into Tibet without a Tibetan. In this part of the world, people die on the mountains — the only safety you can count on is experience. Finding a guide proved difficult, and in the end I decided that I would find the right person in the village where I would start my journey. That was a potentially risky move, but like everywhere in the world, you can usually make things happen once you are on the ground.

My flight to Zhongdian, now named Shangri-la, was easy enough. Zhongdian is the first town on the Tibetan plateau in China’s Southwestern Yunnan province. I decided to fly in and rest there for two days; at 3,200 meters (10,500 feet) it would be an ideal place to acclimatize before making more aggressive moves into the mountains. Taking the time to acclimatize in this part of the world is as essential as remembering to bring film for your camera. Without spending the first day or two resting, you are setting yourself up for attitude sickness and possibly worse.

From there, getting to the mountains was easy enough. And as the initial adrenaline rush gave way to reality, the trek revealed itself to be the most visually beautiful, emotionally rewarding, and physically and mentally challenging experience of my life. And all that was crammed into just nine days.

From Ryan's recent trek around Meili Xue Shan in Tibet. ©Ryan Pyle

Without giving away too much of a story that is not yet published, I can say that the Germans were wrong in their calculations — the trek is around 400km (250 miles), when taking into account the switch backs and detours. That made for about 30 miles a day.

My writing partner and I completed the journey in nine days and suffered some of the most extreme weather conditions I’ve witnessed in my decade of traveling in the region. We were rained on, snowed on, and hailed on. On the last day, it was 25C (77F) when we woke up and -20C (-4F) just seven hours later, at 4,900 meters, with wind strong enough to knock you off your feet. I lost about 20 pounds in the process and gained a completely new respect for our Tibetan guides, who floated effortlessly over high passes and across windy plateaus.

As far as the gear was concerned, the Northface tent, sleeping bags, and jackets performed wonderfully, especially with violent temperature fluctuations. The Canon 1Ns held up beautifully in rain, snow, and sleet. The Fuji Provia was, as always, the right color film for the job. And after walking up and down mountains for ten hours a day in the remote Himalaya’s, I feel as though I could face down Michael Phelps, on dry land at least.

Bathing in open, tin rimmed enclosures like these is the only way to wash in the poor community of Ogu in the Niger Delta, where oil operations yield billions of dollars of wealth nearby. ©Ed Kashi

June 4, 2009

Today we went to the Bayelsa Palm Oil Farm, which everyone has been talking about in the interviews. Sure enough, the new processing plant is not completed (they are waiting for the Malaysians to come and build it). I shot the exterior of the new factory, which is not impressive, and made arrangements to return tomorrow and shoot the workers cutting palms off the trees.

I was thinking today how I always work from the outside, not just as an observer but also in terms of access and logistics. I am the outsider that most people don’t want around or they don’t want me to see what I want to look at. Yet in this project I should be an insider and in many situations I am treated that way. But mostly I feel like I’m working from the outside, trying to get a glimpse through the window shades at the action.

I had a meeting about going to Akassa, a far off community by the Atlantic, to see civil society projects in action. After talking with my contacts about the security situation in the creeks, it became crystal clear I shouldn’t risk it.

Things were bad in 2006, when boats of gun-weilding young men would appear from nowhere, stop you, harass you, and take money. Now the situation has deteriorated to gang warfare for turf and control, but instead of mean streets they are creepy riverways and creeks. Plus, it’s so rare to see a white man in the creeks now, if I were to be seen by one of these boatloads of young men, I would be way too exposed and vulnerable. I can’t deal with this shit or take the risk, especially for this project. I said the only way I would go to Akassa or any of these riverside communities is by chopper or government boat.

June 5

We started the day at a local market to get B-roll of fish and periwinkles in buckets. It was a relaxed and lovely way to start the day, although I did get splattered by blood when I got too close to a saleswoman chopping a fish for her customer. We then went to the Bayelsa Palm Oil Farm, which is still a work in progress. The plantation itself is visually lovely, but the processor is not working yet, as I pointed out a couple of days ago, waiting for the Malaysians.

I was quite testy with Sokari and the subjects today. I realized that I am now in a mode where everything I’m seeing is through critical eyes and negative assumptions. Unfortunately it’s accurate, but not healthy or fair or positive…but then, who cares? I can be this way if I want and if it gives me the resolve to carry on. It was sunny this morning, which means dripping wet working from the heat and humidity.

June 6

Upon emerging to greet the afternoon, I met a calm, overcast day with nice winds that cooled the heat down. We went to cover a traditional wedding, which required a very short boat ride across the river from Yenagoa. It was another undeveloped and poor village, like all the rest of them here. The bride had to wait for the stylist to appear and make her up. Once she arrived things proceeded swiftly.

My back was burning with pain at this point and the sun came out, so it was also burning hot again. I was losing my ability to tune into the sequence of events and Sokari was keen for me to see the part where the groom has to choose between three covered women, not knowing which one is his bride. It was loud, colorful and hectic. I probably got some great stuff, but all I could think about was my discomfort, the hectic, screeching sounds and the chaos of the situation.

Workers subcontracted by Shell Oil Company to clean up an oil spill from an abandoned Shell Petroleum Development Company well in Oloibiri, Niger Delta. ©Ed Kashi

June 8

I woke on this last Monday in the Delta bleary eyed and tired from another restless night of sleep. Some brisk Nescafe and exercise brought me back to life with a positive attitude to finish this thing strong. We first went back to the Palm Oil farm to finally film the harvesters cutting the palms down, but once again the workers were arguing with the contractors about getting paid. No go on that front, but did get the pruners whacking at the palm trees.

We then drove out of Yenagoa (yay!) to look at a couple of projects. On the way we stopped to shoot road work on the New Airport Road, a huge swath of light colored orange sand covering a wide area of flattened jungle. I got out of the car and started to shoot the one bulldozer working in the distance — not knowing that a JTF post was on the other side of the road.

Immediately they started yelling, “Oyibo, who gave you permission to snap!” I snapped back without hesitation, “THE GOVERNOR!!!” Sometimes my frustration builds up so much I forget to consider my responses. The soldiers were taken aback and before they could say anything else I pulled out the well-worn letter that Von’s office gave us at the beginning of the trip. I’ve used about 15 times so far and it usually works. They took the letter and said, “We’ll keep this…it’s for us!” I said, “No you won’t, that’s my only copy!” Thinking ahead, I then said, “We are going to Kayama next, so we’ll get you a copy and drop it off on the way back to Yenagoa.” He said, “No, you will take this engineer with you!” I said “Fine!”

So off we went to Kayama, about 15 miles ahead on this main road that connects Port Harcout to Warri. Along the way, the engineer suggested we go to another place where they are dredging sand for the road and we finally got some dredging footage. We then went to Kayama to show a huge land reclamation and erosion protection project. We got the copy and dropped it and the engineer off on the way back to Yenagoa.

I asked Sokari if I had come on too strong to the soldier and he laughed and said, “No!” He told me that after I said, “THE GOVERNOR!” another soldier said to the big soldier who confronted me, “Wow, he’s confident.“ So my bravado worked in this case. Not that I was aware of what I was doing. I’m in a trance-like state at this point, trying to accomplish the work, keep positive, and get back to my room to chill out, waiting to get out of here.

The congested and broken down streets of the oil city of Warri, in the Niger Delta, where hawkers sell fuel illegally.

May 15, 2009

Yenagoa….this is the capital city of the federal state of Bayelsa, which is only 12 years old. They have put me up in the bosom of the state, the Government House, a large compound for hosting guests and dignitaries. I have not been put in the VIP building. The furniture is broken, many of the lights don’t work, the TV is useless, there is no internet, the bed is a piece of foam on a piece of plywood, and it’s not clean. On the bright side, there is electricity, a functioning air conditioner and some lights. I have to focus on what I do have, not what I don’t, otherwise I’d go downhill fast.

This is so typical of Nigeria. I am in a grand compound, with a sense of decrepit grandeur on the surface. Yet inside so much is broken, unfinished or just done poorly. The irony is, being hosted by the government I have less than I would in one of the privately owned guest hotels in the town.

May 21

I went out in the afternoon with an engineer from the Dept. of Works to shoot road building. We went to a location where there was a giant Shell gas pipeline project about 30 yards away. I started to shoot innocuous activity: workers hanging out along the pipes, big machinery working in the muck of the swamps. All of a sudden, five Nigerian Shell workers in bright orange jump suits and hardhats start yelling and motioning me to come. I realized immediately I was in for it. Even though I had an official from the State Government and was not a journalist, they freaked and did the threatening, aggressive, and aggrieved trip on me. I didn’t get permission, etc, etc. Then they said I could not leave without erasing the tape.

Anytime this happens I get pissed and push back, which I did. I could see it was getting uglier and the fact I had a state official with me didn’t matter squat to them, so I called Von Kemedi, my main contact in the Delta since 1994. He threatened to send the MOPOLS, mobile police, to arrest them, and they let us go with further admonishment. What was upsetting and revealing was, when I said I was working for the State of Bayelsa, they said, “This isn’t the state of Bayelsa!” Shell owns the game down here and doesn’t have to answer to anyone.

May 25

Hitting a wall today of fatigue and burnout. So many appointments are changed or canceled last minute, Von continues to delay certain actions, Patterson Ogon (one of his deputies) is MIA, and I have to push everyone to get anything done. At least my core team is in place and seemingly responsible and loyal. If my assistant/videographer Sokari or my driver stop being responsible, I’ll truly lose it.

We started the day at a market by the river, next to a big new bridge. Then we went with a water commission official to a small village to show how potable water is brought to their community. It was raining the whole time, so I don’t know how the footage will look. Then we went back to the water commission HQ and did an interview with another Minister, of Agriculture. Then I hit the wall. I’ve been doing so good for the past days, but today something snapped. I have to get the rhythm back. I have no choice.

May 28

After our interview, we went to the Health Ministry to get details about an upcoming polio vaccine exercise, which is starting in a couple of days. We went to three offices, spoke to four different people, then went to a place where the vaccines are stored a few blocks away and spoke to someone there. He gave us a cell number and when Sokari called he basically was told we needed to come in and speak to this man. I hit a wall of frustration and lashed out at Sokari. I felt terrible afterwards and apologized a few times in the course of the day. I just get so frustrated with the hapless and clueless way so many people here work and think.

May 31

It was a whirlwind day with the Governor. First we started at the Govenment House Church, which is literally 100 yards from where I’m staying in the Government House compound. It’s incredible to think that this is exactly where that military helicopter dropped Elias (my fixer) and I off in June of 2006, handcuffed, after we were taken from the flow station out in Nembe creek. How life plays it’s tricks.

We finally got to Amassoma, which is almost an hour away on a mostly very rough road. We filmed the war canoe contest and got some good stuff, probably, although I was fried from all the pressures of the day and this trip. I realize I cannot control everything and, here, almost nothing, but sometimes it just becomes too much.

A 1,500 year-old pottery fragment in the abandoned city of Yinpan, which Sean discovered serendipitously after his original "abandoned city" story fell through. ©Sean Gallagher. Courtesy Pulitzer Center for Crisis Reporting

Planning thoroughly and planning well are key to a large-scale assignment. However, staying flexible and being willing to throw out the plan at a moments notice is equally important. If you are prepared for both, there is a good chance your trip will be successful.

Traveling in rural China is not the best place to have a specific plan. Like most of us, I live in a large city where I am used to trains turning up on time, buses criss-crossing the city at all times of the day, and convenience at my fingertips almost everywhere. As soon as you step out of China’s major cities, a lot of this evaporates.

In my plan, I had penciled in one week for each location. As far as details — timing, when to arrive, when to leave, etc. — my notebook held no more information than, for example, “Week 1 – Inner Mongolia.” I knew exactly I where I wanted to go and what I wanted to achieve there, but it was impossible for me to predict how and when I would arrive and leave a certain place. In this respect, I had to remain completely flexible and not become frustrated if I could not get to a location on ‘x’ day, as ‘y’ day would probably be ok, too. This was a luxury I had working for the Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting, which afforded me much more time than most assignments.

Adapting to change was the only constant on my trip. Mid-way through our journey, my assistant had to unexpectedly return to Beijing, forcing me to work alone for a small portion of the trip. I had anticipated something like this, so I focused on subjects I could cover without an assistant.

The biggest challenge during my Pulitzer assignment was when my “chapter” on abandoned cities appeared to have fallen through. I had researched and planned a trip to a spectacular abandoned city in the Inner Mongolian deserts. The day before embarking, we discovered that the area had just been shut off to outsiders because the route to the city passed through one of China’s space rocket launch centers. I had no other back-up location for abandoned cities, so I was concerned that this important chapter would be missed.

As we called hotels to book rooms for our future stops, we mentioned our predicament to a hotelier. This hotelier happened to be a professional guide to explorers and told us of another abandoned city rarely visited by outsiders. A quick search online revealed that the demise of the city fell inline with desertification, so we decided it was our final (and only) option. The old city of Yinpan turned out to be one of the highlights of the whole trip, despite coming about completely by chance.

The New York Times Magazine pulled a photo essay by Edgar Martins after Minnesota computer programmer Adam Gurno pointed out one of the photographs was digitally altered. Starting as a comment thread on MetaFilter, the debate quickly heated up in the photo blogosphere. The controversy generated so much buzz that Talking Points Memos picked it up. More discussion here, here and here.

Some philosophical questions have also been raised around a photograph from Xinjiang, China, another of a woman in front of two military trucks. It evokes the famous “tank man” photo; however, a video clip on the Guardian shows that the trucks were actually backing away from her. Full analysis at The New Dominion.

Todd Walker from The Gallery Hopper linked to a great ongoing piece called “My Best Shot” in The Guardian, which includes interviews with 100+ photographers discussing the one image they are proudest of.

The Lucie Foundation is hosting an outdoor projection series called Pro’jekt LA at Space 15Twenty in Los Angeles starting on July 16. Three photographers will be featured in each show, on the third Thursday of the month through September. Tania Fernandez, Jeaneen Lund and one special guest will kick off the series.

Loggerhead Shrike with Texas Horned Lizard Toad. ©Arthur Morris

Over the years there’s been more than a few bird photographers who have said, “Look at Artie, he’s getting 15 people on a tour at $999 a person — do the math. And he does three tours a row in New Mexico. I can do that too.” But with the exception of people who really enjoy being around people, they pretty much all failed. It comes back to the principle of hard work. I think the most important thing to make a successful workshop is to put your heart and soul into it and to give a damn.

Ask yourself, “Am I a people person?” “Do I want to work 17 hours a day?” “Do I want to put every ounce of effort I have into finding a good situation for these people?” I’ve seen other instructors who will go to a spot that’s traditionally good, and if it’s terrible, they stay in the same spot and waste the folks’ time. On a typical morning at Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge, I often move the group up to five times in the first one-and-a-half hours. If you’re lazy, workshops are not for you. Likewise, if you don’t like people, you’re not all of a sudden going to become a people-person because you’re running a workshop.

American Alligator eating a Brown Pelican. ©Arthur Morris

I don’t know how the template for BIRDS AS ART Instructional Photo-Tours (IPTs) came to be, but they’re not much different now than when I ran the first workshop with one person. The formula came to me naturally: tell people what they will be doing, get up early and go photograph, help them in the field, and then review the images.

We still do an introduction on the first night. We show the students what we’re going to be photographing and talk about the various techniques that we will be using. The second evening we do critiques, and the third night we take a close look at composition. Each year we put more emphasis on the photography itself. We always find time for some Photoshop lessons. Many good photographers make their images look worse in Photoshop rather than better. That’s why we came up with the Digital Basics File, a PDF that we send by e-mail.

Originally we took as many as 15 people out, but now we’ve reduced the group size to 6-10 and raised the prices. It took me a long time to realize that if I take two groups for three days I have to do all the ground work twice. Now that I’ve started doing these longer trips there’s much less pressure with regards to the weather and the really great photo ops; I feel much more relaxed throughout the trip.

People always comment that I’m one of the few leaders who eats almost every meal with the students. Most of the big-name tour companies have professional leaders whose primary job is to open the door of the van. I have my laptop on and I’m teaching pretty much all the time except when we’re chewing. An IPT is pretty much total immersion.

Brown bear eating salmon in Katmai National Park. ©Arthur Morris

My mother will ask me, “Are you going to retire?” And I say, “Ma, I love what I do, I love every second of it.”  Even when I’m working 16-hours-a-day, I love it.  People often ask if I take a vacation without a camera and a big lens, and I just laugh. Why would anyone do that if they’re doing what they love?

I think that most folks who are starting out in photography, whether they come from another career or not, their goal is to not have to go back to their first career. There was one guy who worked for me early on, he was working for IBM and they were offering him a buyout. And I said, “I’d take it in a heartbeat. If you can make it on your own, even for a year, that’s one year you didn’t have to wear a tie and sit in a cubicle. And now, 15 years later, he’s taking people all over the world teaching photography.

You gotta be yourself. You can fool people for a little bit, but not for long. I’m opinionated, and I’m not humble. Some folks are going to be rubbed the wrong way by that. (My people skills have improved dramatically over the past decade and I try never to be arrogant.) I like to say that 80% of the people love me and 20% hate me — nobody is neutral about me. And many of the 20% have never even met me. You gotta love that. It’s commonplace for people to say, “Oh my god, you went on a tour with Artie Morris? He is arrogant and he will push you out of the way to get a picture, he doesn’t care if you learn anything.”  When someone asks, “Have you ever been on one of his trips?” the person always responds, “No, but that’s what I heard.”  I never take it personally.

Call me nuts: I am one of those rare folks who would rather be out photographing with a group than be out by myself.  I just love leading IPTs. (P.S. Most of my seven BBC Wildlife Photographer of the Year-honored images were created while teaching.)

Ted Barron at the Boogie Woogie Flu blog posted two very cool MP3 tracks of Weegee and Henri Cartier-Bresson speaking about photography. The Online Photographer also pointed us to some other audio clips of radio interviews with Weegee from 1945, including an explanation of how he got his name.

Kodak announced on Monday that they will retire the 74-year old Kodachrome film because, quite simply, it’s not selling. Is it ironic or perfect timing that National Geographic Museum’s new exhibition, which runs through September 7, is “Kodachrome Culture: the American tourist in Europe“?

The best-remembered Charlie’s Angel Farrah Fawcett died of cancer on Thursday at the age of 62. The New York Times had a nice tribute, and Bruce McBroom, the photographer behind the actress’ iconic poster, shared the story of the serendipitous shoot.

With the recent Iran media ban, there is a growing concern for the lack of professional conflict coverage. Paul Melcher had a great piece on why war photographers are rarer than ever. A timely wake up call for anyone who really cares about photojournalism.

Ningxia Hui Autonomous Region. Tourists enjoy themselves on the 100-meter-high sand dunes. ©Sean Gallagher. Courtesy Pulitzer Center for Crisis Reporting

Before I was awarded the grant from Pulitzer, I had to have it clear in my mind what I wanted to achieve with this project and how exactly I wanted to achieve it. I had already been working on the subject of desertification on-and-off for over a year, so I already had a good idea of most of the main issues.

In drawing up my application for the grant, I had to lay out a detailed plan of where I would go during my proposed trip, which forced me to clearly identify the key issues that were important to the big topic. Beginning this planning process was no easy task. China is a vast place and desertification is an equally vast issue. I knew that I was going to have to lay a careful plan if I was to achieve everything I wanted to.

The first thing I did was revisit all the old articles that I had bookmarked online over the months. I have a habit of bookmarking interesting articles in case I ever need them or decide to follow-up on them for potential photo-essays. This helped me quickly review what I was already familiar with. Through my research, I then started to make a list of separate issues that were all linked to desertification. These included things like environmental refugees, degraded grasslands, abandoned cities, threatened water, tourism, science vs. the desert, etc.

The next step was to head to my office wall, where a large, detailed map of China became my logistical planning station. With articles in hand, I started to circle locations that seemed to represent each issue I wanted to cover. Quite soon, I had circles and scribbles all over the map. My proposal was going to be for a 6-week trip, so I knew I didn’t want to attempt too much — but I also needed to cover all the key issues. I decided to tackle six issues, one per week, giving me seven days with each location and issue.

One of my main goals for this project was to show that desertification was affecting vast swathes of China. I therefore planned to travel from “coast to coast,” 4,000 km from one side of China to the other, and picked locations that would move me progressively across the country. Most of my locations fell along China’s northern rail network, so I decided to ride these trains as a way to link my locations and give me a better feel for the land I was traveling through.

Once I had decided on locations and how I was going to travel to them, I needed to identify how I would cover the issue in each location. Again, this came down to research. I trawled the web looking for information on each location to give me a an idea of what images I could potentially make there. For some of the locations, however, the information was limited, so I knew it was going to take some investigative work once there to tell the story. Also, you can never plan completely what pictures you will take because it is often the serendipitous ones that eventually turn out to be the best.

Even after all my research was done and the plan was laid out, though, I just knew that everything would not transpire as smoothly as I hoped. “This is China — things are never straightforward,” I though to myself. I had prepared as best I could, but I also had to be ready to adapt quickly to the changes I would inevitably have to make to my plan.

• Since the Iranian government banned foreign journalists from covering the rallies in Tehran on Tuesday, people are using social media to spread the latest news on the protests. Whether or not there is a “Twitter revolution” going on in Iran, people are definitely using Twitter to distribute unsanctioned news and images of the protests. One of the most visited TwitPic pages for Iranian protests photos has received over 126,000 page views since Monday.

• Hearing about the unrest in Iran, we immediate thought of Newsha Tavakolian, a talented Iranian photojournalist based in Tehran, a liveBooks client, and a friend. Check out her pictures of the rallies and her interview on the New York Times Lens blog, plus an interview about covering Hajj on RESOLVE.

• Joerg Colberg at Conscientious pointed us to a new online resource for photo lovers: The entire permanent collection of the Museum of Contemporary Photography is now available on the museum’s website. Not only can you search and browse through the collection, you can also save your favorites to view later or share with friends.

• MediaStorm is holding a new Methodology Workshop in the last week of July. The 5-day workshop is a hands-on overview of how to produce successful multimedia projects with a focus on the methodology behind creating and implementing such work. More details on their website.