Blog Archives
over/hang
It is either family tradition or state law that any time we go through Santa Rosa, New Mexico, we have to stop at the Blue Hole, a locally-famous place where you can go scuba diving. (Yes. In the middle of New Mexico.)
“Someone” has a strong need to stand by the water and gaze upon it, sigh heavily, offer (probably unsolicited) observations to anyone else standing there, and otherwise wax nostalgic for those long-ago scuba days (which were as recent as last year, but whatever).
During this ritual (or legal requirement) I go to the restroom. And this is what the building looks like.
Blue Hole
Santa Rosa, New Mexico
photographed 11.8.2025
tucker hall
This building, which dates from the early 1900s, was William and Mary’s first free-standing library building.
Also, it is reported to be haunted by the ghost of a student who died by suicide on the third floor of the building in the 1980s.
Accocrding to a not-at-all over-the-top article posted by the Williamsburg Ghost Tour folks, the hauntings may not actually be a ghost, but could possibly be demons, which are, like, really scary and bad and stuff. (“Demons, however, are evil and won’t hesitate to bring harm to the living. They’re known to disguise themselves as ghosts or spirits pretending to need help and won’t hesitate to make their presence known. Many people confuse these classifications and if the mistake’s made, it’s potentially harmful to those in the area. It’s advised that if a spirit does try to harm a human, to call an exorcist or seek professional help.“)
All that aside, I liked the pattern of the floor tile.
the College of William and Mary
Williamsburg, Virginia
photographed 10.3.2025
got the blues
I think at some point this building had been a school but those days are pretty far in the past. Now it’s falling down (literally) and filling up with dirt from frequent dust storms (also literally).
However, I greatly admire someone’s decision to go with the blue glazed bricks AND the blue desks. That was a bold decision (maybe) but it’s still paying off (in my opinion).
near Ackerly, Texas
photographed 8.9.2025
bruno
The Bruno House, at Ransom Canyon, is possibly the closest thing that Lubbock has to a piece of iconic architecture. Texas Monthly magazine says “It’s instantly recognizable: a gravity-defying, rusted, bulbous steel pod on four legs.” It hovers over the edge of the canyon in a way that defies, well, everything you think you know about houses and art and sculpture. It was the life project of Robert Bruno, who only lived in it for a few months before his death, and even then the house wasn’t finished.
Many years ago, I stood inside this place, on the part that hangs out over the canyon’s edge. Glass hadn’t yet been installed and the updraft from the canyon filled the room with fresh air and filled me with a sense of flying: the knowledge that I was standing on a floor and inside a building was blown away on the breeze and I became something or someone else. I will never forget it.
Anyway, here’s what it looked like the other day when I went by.
(Oh, how’d I get in that day? We were driving by and stopped for a better look at the place. Then we got out of the car for an even longer look. You need to know that back then, this place was a source of derision for almost everyone: an ugly metal hulk plopped down amongst “normal” houses. Anyway, that day there was a man sitting in the shade by the front door. He was eating a sandwich and asked us if we’d like to go inside. And we did. I’d been in the what-the-hell-is-this? camp until the minute I stepped inside and approached that window opening. And then I got it. We didn’t talk to the man on the way out. Maybe it was Robert Bruno himself? Or maybe just a guy eating a sandwich. But his invitation was, and still is, profound.)
Lake Ransom Canyon, Texas
photographed 5.30.2025
1-3-2-4 (at dusk)
I am rehabbing from foot surgery and am still non-weightbearing for another couple of weeks.
That has put a bit of a crimp into my usual photography processes, which mostly involve driving around until I see something interesting, then getting out to walk around while I explore.
The alternate version of that (having someone drive me, shooting from the car window) is actually giving me a chance to look at things from a bit more distance than I usually would, giving me practice framing shots differently, and a lot of chances to say ridiculous things like, “Can you back up like about an inch?”
Lubbock, Texas
photographed 5.20.2025
One Day | One Image 