Blog Archives
something on my sensor
I guess I need some technical advice from camera people. From time to time I get stuff like this on my camera; I’m wondering if it’s something on the sensor and if I need to send my camera in for some kind of deep cleaning.
Have any of y’all experienced anything similar?
For background, the first time this happened was in Sicily (in couple of different locations), then in happened in Scotland, again in Sicily, and then this time at White Sands. The first two times I noticed it was when I’d left the table to go to the restroom. This last time I handed my camera to someone so I could tie my shoe. And one more thing – which is probably complete irrelevant – Don Toothaker was in the immediate vicinity every time.
Anyway, I’d appreciate any advice on the situation and/or any jokes or ridiculous comments.
White Sands National Park, New Mexico
photographed 12.12.2025
church + grackles
Don Toothaker, my shooting partner and excellent friend, and I enjoyed the town of San Elizario – there are a lot of reasons why but if I try to write them down here, they start to sound trite or maybe a little bit like I’m trying to hard. Suffice it to say, then, that we were in sync with what we felt and what we saw and how we felt about what we saw. And we saw and we felt a lot. The day was beautiful.
Presidio Chapel of San Elizario
San Elizario, Texas
photographed 12.15.2025
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
the darkness got there first, 2
Image 2: As good as it seems
But maybe, over time, rough and uncomfortable edges start to show. To be fair, they probably were there all along, but it took you some time to notice that your body felt weirdly disconnected. And it took even longer to realize that you actually felt taped together, held in place by things that were external to you, to who you thought you were.
Which leaves the question: who are you?
Lubbock, Texas
photographed 8.24.2025
One Day | One Image 