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Mnemosyne
My day had started early, before dawn. I drove miles down rough dirt roads to a trailhead. I hoisted my pack onto my back and cinched the straps. Without any real trail to follow, I headed off across the open country generally in a cardinal direction. A couple hours later, after setting up camp, I started exploring. It was a hot and stagnant afternoon. The sun blazed in a pale blue sky. I slowed a…
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Postcard Archive: May 2022
Thick smoke darkened the sun and made for an apocalyptic scene. The smoke from fires more than a state away blotted out the sun. Driving west, I couldn’t help but think: The world is burning up; this can’t end well.
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An Unoriginal Photo
Just as I am rarely alone, despite how far I might venture into the wilderness, I rarely take an original photograph. Sometimes, my photographs are obviously unoriginal (perhaps not entirely cliché but certainly not obscure). I don’t care if some of my photography looks familiar because other people have been there before me and taken similar photos. In subtle and often overlooked ways, my photo captures a fleeting and irreproducible moment and reflects my particular…
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A Path Well Traveled
I’ve been this way before. I know where this path leads. But as with each visit, something is different this time. The path is both familiar and foreign, reshaped each season by the forces of nature and the other people who have come this way. While I have found solitude for the moment, the footprints in the gravel remind me that I am far from alone. These remote spaces are haunted by the countless people…
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Postcard Archive: April 2022
On a recent trip to a foreign land I was reminded of how short our time here is and how silly our efforts at permanence. Despite our hopes and aspirations, and fortunes spent, our legacy often falls into ruin. These ruins remind me to make the most of my fleeting time.
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Study of a Flower
The value, for me, in coming back again and again to similar subjects is finding what I do and do not like. Maybe in the process I improve my technique, but that’s less interesting to me than watching how my aesthetic sensibilities shift. I seem regularly to return to flowers.
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Imagined Histories
We work incredibly hard to create remnants of the past that will help us imagine what it was like: think of ghost towns and historic monuments. National and state park systems have developed strict guidelines for how to repair “historic” structures, e.g., what materials can be used for public-facing projects (stuff visitors might see) need to be or seem to be authentic to the period (whereas non-public-facing projects can use modern materials). Valley Forge is…
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Postcard Archive: March 2022
I couldn’t resist the siren calls of a late winter snow storm. promising the chance to wander a desolate world, alone. The late winter snow adds to the atmosphere and makes glad for my gloves and heavy coat, luxuries the Continental Army did not enjoy.
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Small Red Door
I don’t know why this feed door caught my eye. Maybe it was the contrast between the red door and the white wall — Why did they bother painting the door red? Does the color mean anything or serve any purpose? Seems unlikely. Maybe I was drawn to the traces of use in the worn and chipped paint — How many times has somebody grabbed the handle and opened the door? Why is there a…
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A New Postcard
A bit late this month, but a new postcard is now available. Wandering around the ruins of Clifden Castle, I couldn’t help but think about how quickly our feeble efforts at permanence decline into ruin. It was a reminder to enjoy the evening, the breeze coming off the bay, the smell of early spring. These moments are all we have. I was fortunate to add them to my “Museum of This I Experienced.”