Blog Archives
altar
You already know that I make a lot of photos by shooting through windows without any ability to carefully compose the shots: I get what I get. Sometimes it’s awful.
And then, there are times like this, when I didn’t even know until I saw this image on my computer that the cross on the altar was lined up through the gap in the door AND was arranged perfectly against a lighter background.
I don’t think I’d’ve planned it any better.
Eastland, Texas
photographed 8.7.2022
gone to the dogs
There was only one reason I came here: I wanted to see what a place called “Nimrod” looked like. Mostly it looked like a church and a cemetery.
But there was this abandoned building; the sign over the door was illegible, so I don’t know what it was. But it was something related to dogs, and to trophies of dogs, and even a dog mural. Somehow these context clues made more mysterious.
Nimrod, Texas
photographed 8.7.2022
if you have a complaint
That little sign in the window says, “If you have a complaint…”
The woman I met just down the block had plenty of complaints. She started our conversation by saying, “Can I hep yew?” in a way that made it clear that what she really want to “hep” me do was leave. But then she got to talking (as we say in Texas) and I learned some things:
- There are “about” 58 people in Putnam
- She’s 66 and her husband is 68 and they are the youngest people in town.
- She hates living in Putnam. Just hates it. Always has.
- Her dream is to move to Abilene.
- People in Putnam are mean. They won’t talk to you.
- She hates it there.
- Everyone moved there just to be left alone.
- She just hates it.
It was hard to see an end to the conversation – once she got started she definitely warmed to her topic! – so I wished her a good day and told her that I hoped her dream of moving to Abilene came true. She said, “Oh I cain’t move until my husband dies. He ain’t leavin’ here.”
And ever since then, I’ve worried about her husband’s long-term life expectancy. If you know what I mean.
Putnam, Texas
photographed 8.7.2022
we run a twisted line
I was taking the (very) long way from Oklahoma City to Lubbock, which is how I found myself in Scotland.
To clarify: my route wasn’t THAT long. I wasn’t in the country of Scotland, but in the Texas town of the same name.
Anyway, of course I saw the local cemetery. And this poor little marker, split in two with just the rebar in the concrete holding the two cross-chunks together.
St. Boniface Catholic Church
Scotland, Texas
photographed 8.6.2022
when we thought the rain would stop
What we thought would be an enjoyable evening watching the Amarillo Sod Poodles* playing baseball didn’t really pan out all that well. There was a one-hour rain delay before the game even started and then, in a show of unfounded optimism, the crew pulled away the tarp and the game started. By the third inning we were as drenched as we wanted to be and left; the rain never let up and the game was called in the sixth inning.
But it was good while it lasted.
Hodgetown Stadium
Amarillo, Texas
photographed 7.29.2022
*Yes. That is the actual name. It’s a slang term for prairie dogs.
One Day | One Image 