I’ve already told you about a book that completely changed the way I shoot, but today we’re diving into something more classic — a book that tells the story of an undertaking that seemed impossible.
Someone did pull it off though — thanks to his mindset, that still inspires me today.
I’m talking about the Joel Meyerowitz Aftermath book.
What Aftermath Is About
Aftermath is so much more than a photography book. It’s the voice of a post-Armageddon world. It is a photographic and documentary masterpiece of the days and weeks immediately following September 11, 2001, in New York City.
The images in those pages will remain in the history books as a unique testimonial voice: Meyerowitz was, in fact, the only photographer granted access to Ground Zero.
I can tell you this: this book became a mantra for me.
There’s a moment when Meyerowitz knows he has to be an eyewitness to those dark, chaotic days. No camera means no history. But Ground Zero is classified as a crime scene, and getting access seems impossible.
And yet, he refuses to give up.
He asks, insists, negotiates. He keeps pushing and pushing… until finally he gets the pass that allows him to enter Ground Zero to share space, breath, and time with the teams working there.
And that really impressed me: the clarity of purpose, the resilience, and the belief that your presence matters — not to feed your ego, but to leave a trace for those who will experience that part of history through your work.
What we can learn from aftermath TODAY
What Meyerowitz offers us is, yes, an unrepeatable gaze into history. No doubt about it. Flipping through those pages, reading the threads, the words floating in the air of those days, I found myself moved — again and again.
But the message he brings us is even deeper, even if it could seem simple: Just because a door doesn’t open right away doesn’t mean it isn’t your door.
I grew up in the ’80s, spending hours building complicated toys — Lego Technic, Meccano. If you assembled one piece wrong, you had to start all over again. It was frustrating, but it was also training: patience, iteration. Sometimes I think I had a proto-form of a mindfulness retreat going on in my garage, just playing with that stuff as a kid.
And now, fast-forward.
How many times, as photographers, do we feel the pressure of not reaching ASAP where we “should”?
Not landing that client, not hitting that goal, or missing something even more subtle — a feeling, a sense of momentum. And when expectations aren’t met, doubt creeps in.
Because today everything must be secured, content must be fast and viral — and all this must happen immediately:
And what if it doesn’t? We don’t quit, no — but there’s this grumpy mood that starts spreading, you know?
Like waking up on December 25th, finding no presents under the tree and thinking, “Hey, I tried to shoot for the stars and I don’t even get socks from Grandma.”
Joel Meyerowitz teaches us something that we can keep close: perseverance is more than a skill; it’s a muscle we can train.
I would like to say ‘like in jogging’, but trust me, I am not that person — better we come back to the book.
Jokes apart: If you care about a door — keep knocking. Don’t walk away.
Starting From the Bottom
And this brings me to the title — with a piece of my own story.
When I first stepped into the world of photography, I realized quickly that some spaces were coded. Italy has a few prestigious photography schools, and I dreamed of attending them. But my path was different: I learned by doing, by watching, by asking questions. I took photography courses at the town’s church summer campus, surrounded by enlargers, film rolls, and developing chemicals. I read books about exposure times and ISO. And after 25 years, I can tell you it was a beautiful journey.
I’m not telling you this to preach the cliché that if you have a dream, you’ll definitely achieve it.
I don’t believe in that narrative. Sometimes you chase a dream your whole life and it still doesn’t unfold as you hoped.
What I do believe is this: Perseverance is your superpower. Well, even more: It is a key value in a world of volatility.
It’s the will to stay and build a path toward something you love — and believe me, folks: that’s anything but ordinary nowadays.