Angry Turks have mourned activists killed in Israel's seizure of a Gaza-bound aid ship.

This portrait session came about because our entertainment reporter, Christine Kearney, noticed that one of the several PR pitches that came across her desk was a small event where Justin Bieber was going to give the winner of a contest a bouquet of flowers. Normally this isn’t a story that we would be interested in because it doesn’t have anything to do with any “larger picture” type of story. However, because it was Bieber, Christine decided she would ask for a few minutes to interview him. One of the hardest things for us to do is gain access because a lot of musicians, actors, or television personalities have very specific images that they want to project so access can be incredibly tight. This restriction to access can make my job difficult because as a photographer I would love the opportunity to document what these public figures lives are like on a day to day basis. The next best thing for me to get is a little one on one time with whoever allows it. Luckily, the PR officer said yes to both the request for a private interview and a quick portrait session, as long as I was low key and quick.

It was a hot day and hauling a large rolling suitcase around with a single set of strobes, along with my backpack full of camera equipment, was enough to make sure that I was panting by the time Christine and I arrived at a small non-descript flower shop in Lower Manhattan. As we walked in I was surprised to see only about a dozen people inside, a couple of television cameras, and one other still photographer. At most events where a celebrity as popular as Justin Bieber is attending there are dozens of photographers and television cameras. I was heartened to see that it would be a much smaller crowd for this. The woman organizing the event told me I could set up my lights in the back while a television station interviewed Justin. Once that was finished Christine could interview him while I moved my lights to the front of the shop where Bieber had to remain seated. I have to admit, I wish all of my portrait shoots could take place in flower shops because it was a welcome break from the usual portrait venue of a hotel room. Not only was the air conditioning on high but it smelled nice and flowery. I think this put everyone at ease as I didn’t have any issues whatsoever setting up my lights, moving them to the front room through a small crowd, or shooting a quick portrait.

As Christine was finishing her interview the organizer of the event came up to me and the other photographer to ask if we could both get our shots in the 3 minutes they had allotted for photos. I asked if we could get more time but Bieber was scheduled to be somewhere immediately following this event and the timing couldn’t be changed. I struck a deal with the other photographer that I could have the first minute and he could have the second and third as he was hired by the organizers of the event and needed multiple people, angles, promoters, etc in his photos. I knew that if other people crowded around Bieber it would be difficult to separate them in time and I just needed single photographs. Christine introduced me to Bieber and after mentioning that I had seen him perform a few months ago with a cast, I went to work.

I had been enjoying using two strip softboxes on my lights and I took several photos both of Bieber as a full-length, him leaning forward, and him standing and close to the lights – with the lights in a number of different configurations. I also took a handful with an 85mm f1.2 camera at ISO400 and 1/250th of a second. The rest were taken at ISO100, 1/200th of a second at either f11 or f9, depending on where he was standing. All in all I had a total of maybe 10 minutes to set up and plan what I was going to do and about 1 minute with the talent. It’s fairly par for the course in this line of work and while it is exhausting and stressful to only have that very limited amount of time, it is also fun when you make some strong photos. There is one horizontal frame in particular where he is leaning forward on his knees that I think turned out well.

In any case, it was fun and I am sure that thousands of teenage girls would have loved to have been there. He was a nice fellow and getting the access was great. Those two things are all I need to get a photo – I just wish those two stars could align more often!

Penguins at a South Korean aquarium are in training for the upcoming 2010 World Cup.

It’s not the first sinkhole the size of an entire block in Guatemala City.

I had covered an even bigger one in 2007. Two seemingly bottomless, perfectly round holes, swallowed up an intersection and buildings, and in one case a family eating dinner at their dinner table. They both happened at night, both in the rain. On May 29, 2010 I was transmitting late night pictures from the last two sleepless days, covering a volcanic eruption that blanketed the city and country with a cloud of black sand-like ash. Then came Agatha, the first tropical storm of the season, which pounded Guatemala with so much rain that hillsides collapsed on villages and overflowing rivers washed houses away. More than 150 people are counted as dead so far, but they are still searching, digging through the mud to find more.

The night the hole was created, it was still raining heavily. We kept the news blaring on the radio. “A giant hole has opened up in Ciudad Nueva!” Again? This time it was closer to my house — less than 2 miles according to the city map. I jumped on the back of my wet motorbike. It would be tough to stay dry. I was there quickly but the police line was already up.

Struggling under the weight of the cameras, tangled with duct-taped plastic bags, a backpack with a laptop in it — all covered with a heavy rain poncho — I ducked under the yellow emergency tape. Standing about 100 meters from the hole, I could tell from the look on the ranking police officer’s face I wasn’t getting anywhere near that thing tonight. I couldn’t even see it. But, what I couldn’t see, I could hear. A great rumbling sound followed by a crash. The sides were crumbling. The hole was unstable and I would be allowed no closer until it settled. Neighbors and evacuees huddled under their umbrellas in the rain. Their faces full of astonishment and worry.

By the time I finished transmitting images the clock read almost 5:30am. I got back on my motorbike, met up with the Reuters video team and we were off to get early morning pics of the hole in the sunlight. No sleep. We could see it this time. It was huge. The police let us cross the line just enough to talk with a few weary-eyed, pajama-clad residents standing in their door frame about 50 meters from the edge. They looked comfortable enough to be standing at that distance, but still had a look of confusion and fear from the night before on their faces as we approached. I was 50 meters from the hole and it looked like a less than impressive sliver through my lens. I would have to get closer, much closer, and higher.

The sinkholes in Guatemala are caused by collapsed drainage pipes. The poor, central American country cannot afford to fix the old and crumbling infrastructures so where the pipes are broken, water seeps into the ground until it gets soggy and unstable ove rtime. A huge underground cavern forms with the sides continuously collapsing. When a storm like Agatha hits, it puts more pressure on the drainage system until everything above the hole — concrete, apartment buildings, people — disappears down into it.

They can fill it in, and eventually will. The 2007 sinkhole was filled with a mixture of mud and a little concrete. It was then sealed. Now there are new buildings on top. But there will undoubtedly be more sinkholes. The underground tube that collapsed on Saturday is connected to the same drainage pipe that opened up three years ago, just further down the line.

I would return to the hole but for now I needed to worry about the rains. Tropical Storm Agatha had been pouring constant rain for 24 hours over most of the country. There were landslides. The radio reported 4 dead, then 8, 12, ….34 dead… and there would be more. I headed to Amatitlan, 16 miles outside the city, where a mudslide had been confirmed. Downed bridges, flooded, mud-soaked streets, broken houses, missing relatives, shattered hearts. People wandered through the disaster area, up and over, the huge boulders that now littered the very spot where these families used to live. Those who were fortunate enough to recover a few pieces of furniture, carefully arranged their bed, the dresser, the kitchen table and some of the chair, placing them where they would have been had their house actually survived the slide.

The next day the rain had stopped, the sun was hot and the mud began to dry. The people in Amatitlan were starting to use shovels and buckets to recover what they had lost. People still wandered around, scavenging for what they could at the site of the landslide. Neighbors who lost their flimsy tin and wood houses walked between the stronger, newer block houses that stood their ground when the mud roared passed, pushing the giant boulders at highway speeds. They greet each other and advise people to move down to where the food and aid is being distributed. I worked until late sending, editing and archiving with little sleep. Tomorrow, I’ll get a picture of that hole I told myself.

I got there early, but it was still being blocked and they prevented me from getting any closer than the tape cordon. It took a lot of talking to get closer and closer. Finally, a handyman working behind a church allowed me to get up on some scaffolding. I was maybe 20 meters from the hole and up high. Then I saw it. The roof of the building I was on was connected to the building right on the corner, just above the hole. The sidewalk out front even touched the hole. Leaving most of my cameras behind, I jumped over the wall and approached the side of the building. I could almost see the entire rim of the sinkhole. When I was 2 meters from it, I took one frame before the police started waving at me to get down. “Sssshhht…pssttt”… it was time to go.

The next day I knew I could get even closer. It was safe to walk up to take a few snaps and get out of there. I heard the engineers talking as they drew pictures on the ground with their fingers in the black sand left by the volcano eruption. I watched an electric company’s technician document the hole with a small digital camera from 5 meters. But how close would I get? As I stood 20 meters away just waiting, a lone soldier wearing camouflage, his weapon slung over his shoulder, walked comfortably over to the hole’s edge. The soldier bent forward and looked over, there was nothing to stop him! He made a face, turned and slowly walked away, wow! If he can do it – so can I!

I asked permission from the ranking official. “Just do it quick,” he said. I walked slowly to the store’s door and stood on the steps and peered over. I was close, but I couldn’t see the bottom, only the crumbling far-sided dirt wall 40 meters down. There was a house dangling on the edge, pipes sticking out like pieces of hay. The stairway that once lead to the building that days earlier disappeared in the middle of the night, taking a security guard with it into the rainy abyss. I inched closer, noticing a lone piece of graffiti carved into the concrete just at the edge, centimeters from the bottomless pit.

I peered over, I could see the dark, pitch-black circle. It was so black that it appeared to go on forever. I felt a sudden rush of adrenaline. I had an urge, it was uncontainable. I took the last picture, took one last look and then spat into the void. I couldn’t see it fall more than a few feet, but as I turned and walked away, the thrill stayed with me. I had gotten as close as could be.

I had sent 104 pictures, contributed to four news stories and worked until 4:13 in the morning. One week to the day from the volcano’s eruption. Another crazy week in Guatemala.

This week in photos is bookended by a shooting spree and a serial killer.  One photo shows the victim of a man who gunned down 12 people in Britain's worst shooting spree in years.  The other from the search for human remains in a West Yorkshire river. A criminology student was charged with the killing of three sex workers in the area.

In between are photos of protests and celebrations, an unbelievable art exhibition, and a small flotilla commemorating the 70th anniversary of Dunkirk.

Oil debris from the Deepwater Horizon spill in the Gulf of Mexico is heading towards Florida beaches and could hit as early as Friday.