Blog Archives
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
the darkness got there first, 1
The next four days of posts are from a fledgling project which came about as a result of taking an online class, taught by my good friend Don Toothaker. The theme was Sense of Time.
In working on the assignment, I started to think about time passing, rites of passage, and personal transitions. In my current state of mind, going through rites of passage happens alone and in the dark. Darkness has long felt more profound to me than daylight: it hides some things while it amplifies others. It is alone-ness in a way that daylight is not. It is when changes happened and settle in, to be viewed later, perhaps in the night.
All of the images in this short series were shot along one street in Lubbock, 34th Street, which has itself gone through many transformations over the decades. The images are intended to represent human rites of passage projected against the landscape of my own life. They are linked by the overarching theme – and project title – “the darkness got there first.”
Image 1: Welcome to the dream
On those nights when life seems like a dream, everything seems likely to happen. Especially the good parts: they always seem a little more possible.
But maybe those dreams you hold so dear, don’t work. Maybe they are too big. Or not big enough . And maybe you have to let go of them, to free your dream-fragments to fuel something, or someone, else.
Lubbock, Texas
photographed 8.29.2025
boat/tilt
Even if you don’t necessarily think of yourself as a landscape photographer, but you get the chance to go to the Scottish Highlands with Don Toothaker and Karl Griffin, you should do everything in your power to make it happen.
It’s hard to find two better photographers/teachers than Don and Karl. Then there’s the added benefit that the two of them together are just hilarious. And don’t overlook the fact that the Highlands are full of fabulous things to see and photograph. Like this beached ship, to give but one example. (More examples coming though, so don’t even worry about that.)
Corpach, Scotland
photographed 11.6.2023
One Day | One Image 