midnight is where the day begins
To add a little bit to the post from Saturday, where I mentioned my naming of images…sometimes I will read the Dictionary of Symbols to find phrases that catch my eyes/ears and that I can relate to a feature in the image. (You might be surprised at how lyrical and emotional the language in that book is.)
I was reading about the symbolism of night during my title search and learned that by ancient Irish folklore each new day begins at night, an idea I’d not ever given the slightest thought to. But I liked it, and liked it enough to use the thought at a title.
And then the next thing that happened was that a weird and magical connection happened when I was naming the photo that’ll post tomorrow. Come on back to see what that’s all about!
Portland, Maine
photographed 3.14.2026
color study, two
The worse-for-wear sign outside an abandoned cafe wasn’t holding on to much except its colors.
Not long after this shot, a woman came from across the street with a series of confrontational questions about what was going on. My usual charm* failed – it failed completely! – so it felt like moving on along was a very workable alternative.
Lamesa, Texas
photographed 3.5.2026
*”Usual charm” is a thing I assume that I have. There is, to this point, no unbiased confirmation.
color study, one
Because I am primarily a black and white photographer who tends toward pessimism, I always assume that the stuff inside an abandoned building is going to be brown (or otherwise monochromatic).
But then I see something like this.
Lamesa, Texas
photographed 3.5.2026
god’s mustache
I thought this photo was about the pew on the bottom left of the frame, the one that’s turned away from the front of the church. I had a title – “the unbelievers’ pew” – and everything.
But then, I was looking at those two round windows at the other end of the room, and how it looked like a face. A face with a mustache made from an altar cloth. And my whole idea about the photo changed.
Fort McKavett, Texas
photographed 4.12.2026
that was about the same time they stopped walling off their feelings
I always title my images, putting me strongly on THAT side of the ongoing debate.
Sometimes the titles are short and/descriptive. Other times they read like part of a novel. There’s no way I can explain the process or why certain titles land particular ways.
This image is called “that was about the same time they stopped walling off their feelings,” a phrase that came to me during the editing process. I’m not sure what, exactly, triggered that title: it’s not biographical. Or situational. Or confessional.
As far as I know…
Fort McKavett, Texas
photographed 4.12.2026
One Day | One Image 