Blog Archives

the night reflection

I think I’m figuring out the technique of using puddles and reflections…

It was very dark in the puddly vacant lot and I wasn’t even real sure what I was going to end up with. What I like is that the night, the reflections, and the puddles worked together to turn an extremely ordinary setting into something that’s unexpected.

And just as I was walking back to the place where I was staying it started raining. The rain, which brought its friends thunder and lightning, lasted nearly all night. I slept very, very well.

Mason, Texas
photographed 4.11.2026

holding it together

Sometimes you do need half a turnbuckle, a bolt with an old square nut, and some wire to feel secure.

Tahoka, Texas
photographed 3.5.2026

faded (old) glory

Just because buildings are vacant/abandoned doesn’t mean there’s nothing to  see.

This little vignette’s got metal siding where a big plate glass window used to be with a smaller window stuck in. And – and! – a very tattered and faded American flag.

The other side of the shot has a sign whose awkward wording led me to read it as “home drop off please no furniture” which naturally made me wonder why they wanted people to just drop off vacant homes. Ah, language: so amusing. Ha, my thought process: probably not so amusing.

Tahoka, Texas
photographed 3.5.2026

an accidental diptych

I meant for this to be just an image of that statue, who looked like she was holding that light over her head (and, also, possibly, holding up the entire ceiling).

But, as the Photography Gods sometimes dictate, that actual thing that needed to be photographed was the way reflection of the other side of the street turned this into a diptych. As a bonus, the way the warm and cool lights play off each other is fun to look at.

Lamesa, Texas
photographed 3.5.2026

this is how my tale begins

This is not the first time I’ve not broken any photographic ground by making a short depth-of-field photo of this same white picket fence.

And you know what? I bet the next time I visit, I’ll not-break that same ground. I can’t help myself.

National Ranching Heritage Center
Lubbock, Texas
photographed 3.8.2026