Blog Archives
From on High
The biggest building in town is the Sacred Heart of Jesus Catholic Church; a notice posted next to the front door said Mass is celebrated there on the third Sunday of each month, at 2:00 p.m. That door was locked, but the side door wasn’t. I let myself in and spent a happy hour inside exploring and photographing.
This view, from the loft, was my favorite and I was especially captivated by the shadows behind the altar.
Shafter, Texas
photographed 11.4.2017
Window Saints
A small icon, painted in the traditional Russian style and purchased in a desert town in Texas, was the reason I found myself in the ghost town of Shafter, Texas, on a Saturday morning.
I’m not usually a purchaser of religious-themed art, but that little painting called to me. I circled it three or four or five times before I gave in and bought it. The man at the store told me it was painted by Brother Paschal, a monk who lives as a hermit in Shafter. “There’s only about nine people in Shafter,” he said, “so if you go down there, it ought to be easy to find him.”
Shafter, Texas
photographed 11.4.2017
Soft colors of the south
I lived in New Orleans for a few years, when I was in grad school, and this color palette is exactly the way I remember the city, where even the bright colors are muted.
Bruce Cockburn’s song “When You Give It Away” includes the line “languid mandala of a ceiling fan/teases the air like a slow stroking hand” comes to my mind every time I think of New Orleans. The heavy air there, so wet it seems to barely move, makes everything seem slow, languid.
(This is the last of the photos from my Louisiana trip. Tomorrow begins a new adventure, to the deserts of far West Texas.) (I like extremes.) (Apparently.)
St. Charles Avenue
New Orleans, Louisiana
photographed 10.25.2017




