since happier light
…and then it snowed. Soft, fluffy flakes. It was a delight. It was also plenty cold, and without any warm sun shining through the big windows of the meetinghouse, it was very nearly as cold inside as out.
Outside, the only sounds were the soft swishes of snow and it felt cleansing to stand outside and take it all in. The snow felt like a gift. (A gift that melted by the next afternoon, but you know what I mean – especially if you live in an arid place, like I do, where whatever snow we do get is much less fluffy and much more like annoying little ice pellets.)
South Solon Meetinghouse
Solon, Maine
photographed 3.19.2026
our strength proved false
The frescoes at the South Solon Meetinghouse were painted in the 1950s by students from the nearby Skowhegan School of Art. They are interesting, they both do and don’t go together. Some of the students were (it seems) heaving into their Picasso phase at the time. Others *may* have found some mushrooms in the forest, if you know what I mean.
But whatever their influences were, the frescoes definitely add a layer of mystical sensibilities to the place. And that mystical layer was ever-present in our contemplative few days there. (Don’t misconstrue what I am saying, though: we were silent, camera-toting monks. There was plenty of laughter. And conversation.)
South Solon Meetinghouse
Solon, Maine
photographed 3.19.2026
thanks + love + faith + grace
If you know anything about me, you probably know that I’m generally flippant about photography and about what I do.
But, in spite of that, I actually do take it very seriously. I never want to be in a rut, or just shoot the same stuff in the same way, or take any of it for granted. Toward the end of last year, I had some conversations with one of my good photography friends. During one of those talks, he gave me the word “purposeful” when I was struggling to describe some changes I wanted to make in my photographic journey/process. That was exactly the word: I wrote it down on a card that lives on my studio desk.
That led me to take a workshop last month in Maine. A small group of photographers spent two and a half days shooting inside of one building. (One unheated building. In Maine. In March. When it snowed.) But in addition to making images of the place, we spent time reflecting on the building, the space, the unseen history that got there before we did, on how we felt being there, on words we’d use to describe out initial emotions about the place.
The first day it seemed that we were going to be there way too long, that it was going to be impossible to fill our time with the things we were tasked with…
South Solon Meetinghouse
Solon, Maine
photographed 3.19.2026
“delicous”
No, indeed there IS nothing like eating a delicious ear of corn. And maybe I’m just letting my inner copy editor have too much control, but I can’t help but point out that the sign maker did not spell delicious the conventional way. Maybe spelling’s just a silly construct?
Skowhegan, Maine
photographed 3.21.2026
addendum
Here’s what happens when you get someone with a piece of cardboard, a marker, and some big opinions.
I don’t know why the year that LL Bean was established was redacted on the mural. If I had a marker and the opportunity, I’d add 1912 over the redaction board (a term I just made up) just so passersby had complete information.
Skowhegan, Maine
photographed 3.21.2026
One Day | One Image 