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Available Light

Afternoon sun, on dead flowers, a leafless trees, and a window missing glass and screen.

Yellowhouse Canyon, Texas
photographed 7.28.2019

Years of Dreaming

“Years of dreaming…will be climaxed Friday night with the staging of the first event in the city’s new, luxurious auditorium.”
Lubbock Avalanche-Journal
March 25, 1956

“People of Lubbock voted by a narrow margin to ultimately have the Lubbock Municipal Auditorium and Coliseum demolished.”
Lubbock Avalanche-Journal
May 6, 2018

And, like that, on a 526-vote margin, we voted to destroy two of our most recognizable buildings – buildings that held our collective memories of basketball games, rodeos, symphonies, circuses, monster truck pulls, pancake breakfasts, concerts, graduations, and so many other events, all of which helped define our community. And ourselves.

Not one thing in any of these photos exists any more. What will happen to our memories, now that these buildings are gone? Will they get stronger? Become larger than life? Become so faint we almost doubt the circus or the symphony ever even happened?

Where did our years of dreaming go?


Arcade – photographed June 12, 2018


Let’s do this – photographed June 12, 2018


First Aid Room – photographed June 12, 2018


Entry – photographed June 12, 2018


Arcade – photographed June 21, 2018


Concrete Windows – photographed June 21, 2018


Out of Order – photographed July 11, 2018


Additional Storage – photographed July 17, 2018


Rainy Day Doors – photographed August 18, 2018


Grid with lights and curtains – photographed September 10, 2018


Mirror, mirror – photographed September 10, 2018


House lights had dimmed – photographed September 10, 2018


Racks, room 201 – photographed September 13, 2018


Cleanliness – photographed September 13, 2018


At the lowest point – photographed September 17, 2018


Pipe Shadow – photographed September 18, 2018


Crow’s Nest View – photographed September 18, 2018


Stairs – photographed September 18, 2018


Stage – photographed September 24, 2018


Two kinds of sinks – photographed September 25, 2018


Chair and music stand – photographed September 26, 2018


Velvet, worn away – photographed September 26, 2018


Above it all – photographed September 26, 2018


Front of House – photographed November 11, 2018


Never to be repeated – photographed December 8, 2018


After the last rodeo – photographed April 7, 2019


You can see it all from here – photographed April 7, 2019


Marked for death – photographed April 27, 2019


Matched my mood – photographed May 3, 2019


Dome Down – photographed May 26, 2019

Garden Helix

Here’s the last photo from my trip to the garden center the other day. It’s a short series because I didn’t really get the sorts of images I had in my head, which surely says a lot more about the contents of my head than it does of the contents of the garden center.

Lubbock, Texas
photographed 7.20.2019

Spike

This is what happens when my camera and I are left unattended at the garden center: I take lots of random pictures. I figured if any employee challenged me, I’d just say I was taking pictures to give to my landscape designer. That sounds kind of plausible, I think. No one bothered me, though; I think they were busy waiting on actual customers or something.

Lubbock, Texas
photographed 7.20.2019

Shadow Line

WARNING: COLOR IMAGE TO FOLLOW!

Sorry. I hope the warning worked and you weren’t too shocked.

Here’s the thing: I took my camera with me to the garden center because I haven’t been taking many photos lately and I sort of couldn’t come up with a better place to shoot. We were going there anyway, see, and it would give me something to do while the Patient Spouse got the [insert garden-y thing here] that he was looking for.

I think you see my point: this would have been pointless in black and white.

Thank you for your indulgence while I strayed away. I’ll be back tomorrow, all black and white, like usual.

Lubbock, Texas
photographed 7.20.2019

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