Brian Buckner

Alba and Viviana grew up together along the banks of the Río Yanuncay, west of Cuenca. Their meager casas were separated by five minutes of steep and broken path that passed near the river. Lives were simple yet difficult with hard work and long hours filling the days of all people, even children, in the...

A couple of years ago, shortly after moving to Ecuador, we took an apartment on Calle Gran Colombia. It is a busy street, in the middle of El Centro, that is also the home of Cuenca’s unfinished Tranvia system’s west bound rails. Many storefronts abound in this area and Mercado Nueve de Octubre is just...

“Gringo Midnight.” The phrase caught me off guard and I cut a glance at Tony, wondering where he’d scored his latest descriptive term. “Yeah, that’s 9:30 p.m. here in Cuenca,” he announced. I got a pretty good laugh from his humor as it struck close to home for both Edie, myself and other friends. I...

I love kids so I really like to see them in action as the stars of many parades they are participants in. They all seem to have their moods just like their adult counterparts running the full gamut from boredom to completely flipping out over their event. The diversity in response amazes me. Then, there...

Change is inevitable, that’s for sure. I think it’s how it is dealt with that’s the issue at stake. I’m afraid that I often do what I set out not to do. As the years have passed, I find I have to be more vigilant of certain responses I have to change. It’s a very...

As a photographer, I am compelled to seek out and record interesting imagery. As a photojournalist, I am compelled to shine the light of my lens on issues I believe need additional awareness. Sometimes, the making of a particular photograph actually informs me in an unexpected manner that’s different from the awareness I’m composing for...

El Fantasma was making good time, dropping down from Ecuador’s northern border with Colombia, somewhere south of San Lorenzo. Edie and I were headed back by Atacames to have some ostione ceviche for lunch. We had been seeing some type of small objects carefully lined up along the road shoulder. They looked like peanuts still...

Three weeks ago, I noticed some scaffolding was being erected on the westernmost dome of the New Cathedral. You may have noticed that the large dome of the nearby Iglesia San Blas is also undergoing repairs. I was disappointed that it had been rapidly covered by tarpaulins prior to my having a chance to get...

In mid-September, Edie and I were traversing part of the countries lowlands as we worked our way up the coast from Salinas to San Lorenzo. As usual, we were on the look out for photo-ops but the atmospherics weren’t too accommodating. Eleven days of travel yielded eight rain days. Nonetheless, around the corner lay interesting...

What memories do you have of your father’s touch? Or did he ever even touch you? Perhaps you knew his touch through physical discipline. Or, maybe he used his hands to demonstrate his love. Did he guide you with his touch? A father’s touch is very powerful. It’s an extremely emotional package no matter how...

  My clothing was soaking wet but I wasn’t on that cold and rainy day. I had donned rain pants and jacket prior to entering the high grass mid-afternoon. It had been raining lightly when I left my truck, striking out for one of my favorite front range locations, right outside Parque Nacional Cajas. I...

Hiking alone high in the Andean páramo amidst the knob and kettle formations of the Andes offers a unique sense of wildness. I don’t see footprints of domestic animals or the signs of the hand of man in many of the places I seek out. I always feel as if I could somehow time-warp into...