Blog Archives
firework(s)
First of all, it’s pretty easy to see that there are fireworks available here.
And second of all, my brain and I enjoyed the idea of just rolling down the highway, going between 3.2 and 9.9 miles over the speed limit (because: Texas), and coming up on a giant truck that shouted FIREWORKS at us. It’s not that funny, now that I see it written down, but trust me on this: in my head it was hilarious.
Wolfforth, Texas
photographed 12.31.2025
sunbleached
When I made this photo, it seemed like a huge mistake. It was the first photo of the day (and the first one, now that I think about it, in two weeks). My camera settings were – to use a technical term – completely fucked up; the photo was way the hell over-exposed. I’d made a little drive out to the place specifically for a different shot I’d had my eye on for a while, so this felt like the one I took before I took the one I wanted.
But then, when I looked at it again, I rather enjoyed the overexposed look, the way the sun baked that sign until it started falling apart, and seared everything else until the colors were drained.
Wolfforth, Texas
photographed 12.31.2025
the darkness got there first: 5
Sometimes I run out of artistic energy. Like right now. It really took just about all I had to edit and post this shot.
And now, I think I’ll take a nap.
Lubbock, Texas
photographed 8.23.2025
dizzy
My brain does not like to see things that spin around. Seeing the motion makes it go all mushy on the inside (oddly, the exact feeling that calculus gave me that one awful semester in college).
Even standing on the ground trying to get a photo of the twirl-around ride* made me a little dizzy.
Panhandle South Plains Fair
Lubbock, Texas
photographed 9.21.2025
*Not, as far as I know, it’s actual name.
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
