Blog Archives
mt. olive
I was in Sudan (the town, not the country) the other Sunday morning. This church seems to be abandoned, but there was some preachin’ going on a block away in the town square. It was echoey and I couldn’t make out words but I knew it was a sermon from the cadence of it.
Oh, and also, I’d already driven by and seen it.
Sudan, Texas
photographed 8.31.2025
makeshift
You can tell it’s cattle country when you go in a church and see a stock tank that’s been repurposed to serve as a altar. (A question: do you think the pastor takes Jesus and stuff off the altar, turns it over, and fills it with water so it can be used for baptisms? Or for thirsty church-cows?)
Nara Visa, New Mexico
photographed 8.31.2025
yacht club
Yes, of course there is a yacht club in New Mexico, a notoriously land-locked and arid place. It’s right there next to the World’s largest flip-flop, because where else would it be?
San Jon, New Mexico
photographed 8.31.2025
the darkness got there first, 4
Image 4: Hurt
But it’s not always going to be about you. Someone will be left behind. Someone will have to deal with their own particular transitions – personal, social, financial – that your departure generated.
Maybe there’s a headstone somewhere to anchor their change, like a giant paperweights, holding things down, keeping them were they are supposed to be, to make it look official. As though looking official will make it start to feel real, somehow.
Lubbock, Texas
photographed 8.30.2025
the darkness got there first, 3
Image 3: House of angels
The place is ready for you, probably long before you think you are ready for it.
But you see it, your eyes slide toward it every time you go by. You think about the way its neighbors are
the Goodwill store and a nail salon. At a point, you eventually notice that the hearse is always parked in
the same place, facing toward the street as if waiting to carry you to your last place.
Lubbock, Texas
photographed 8.24.2025
One Day | One Image 