September 18

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Littlefield 2 of 4: corner grocery

Littlefield, Texas

photographed 12.14.2009

Posted on September 18, 2012, in architecture, Photography and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 9 Comments.

  1. Angled into life
    offering much sustenance
    until the doors closed.

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  2. Something is very poignant about this picture.

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    • I agree – it’s the gloomy day, the weeds growing in the cracked asphalt, the faded signs, the windows like blind eyes. And the lost dreams that closed-up stores always represent.

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      • Its the kind of building that should live on, defining of a period in time, a heritage building in many ways, but now totally unlikely to be recognised as such. Its a shame.

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      • I shot this in 2009 – this place be already gone. Several of the buildings I’ve photographed are gone. My friend Laurie (who posts the daily haiku here) told me that I am doing Important Historical Work (she didn’t really capitalize it, though) with these photographs. I didn’t really think of it that way until she pointed it out. But, really, it’s the homely, day-to-day buildings like this old grocery store that define our towns, and the lives of the people in them, way more than fancy buildings do. So it IS a shame that these places disappear so quietly that their disappearance is noted by only a few photographers or bloggers.

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      • I agree, both that it is a shame that we are some of the few that notice their passing, and with Laurie that you are doing Important Work (capitals appropriate). I think it is something we should consider carefully about our collections of photos – what to do with them, whether there is a state/provincial museum or archives that might want to curate them, is there enough info stored with each one – date and location I am thinking. Etc. Someone in 50 years will be thrilled to discover your pictures, and maybe even some of mine.

        Also, you could make a book of them – a well printed book of small town buildings, it would be beautiful with your high quality of work in it. Surely there are a lot of city folk that are nostalgic for that life and those times, even if depicted on its last legs.

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      • Interesting that you’d mention an archive that might want these images; the local university has a special-collections library, the Southwest Collection, and I’ve got a contact there whom I have talked to about that very thing…

        You and I, and other bloggers (Do you follow Brett Erickson – http://brettlerickson.wordpress.com/tag/plainsky-nebraskans/?) are doing a lot to document what’s going on in our respective regions. And the importance that access that the internet provides cannot be overstated – how else would you know what downtown Slaton, Texas, looks like, and how would I have a bit of familiarity with your storm drain or cemeteries or work at Gwaii Haanas?

        I have done a book to represent each year of my photo-a-day blogs, mostly for my own benefit, but I figure my granddaughter might like to have them some day.

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  3. I am glad to hear that you are thinking of curating your images. With digital images we don’t even need to “give them away” where they are hard for future family generations to find them, as we can so easily make copies. Though, the majority of families would love to discover that a museum had their otherwise lost images of a family member from a few generations ago. And, I would not know to look at Slaton, though on a couple of occasions your images have taken me to google street view to have a look a the surroundings. Not nearly as satisfying as your photographs though.

    While you might be interested in my storm drain photos, it is hard to imagine an archive wanting them. Still, you never know.

    I don’t follow Brett (or rather, I do now) but I have seen his blog before – great documentation of life.

    Your granddaughter is going to love those books some day. Especially because nearly everything you photograph is so quickly disappearing. It will be a Texas (mostly) that she will never know, except through your books.

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    • My granddaughter is only 5, so the Texas she knows when she grows up will be vastly different from what I’ve photographed. And of course, what I see is vastly different from what my parents saw… and so forth.

      Glad you are following Brett – I really like his work.

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