In Photography, Writing

Just dealing with the same crap that people have been dealing with since the development of self awareness. Feeling the years. Going back through “the wreckage of regrets” as Frank Orrall sang in “God’s Gallipoli”.

So down in one of my deep dives into memory/regret/sentimentality, I came across this image. I’d scanned the negative once, long ago. It was from my earliest days in the dark room and the negative was scratched and  pocked with dust from the original processing of the image. I’d been sloppy then, thinking I could fix mistakes later. Well, it took me twenty-eight years to get around to fixing these.

I took this in either Calvert or Hearne, while driving from Fort Worth to Houston a few lifetimes ago. I always took photos on the drive down. I don’t recall ever photographing on the way up. It was shot through a shop window on a cloud covered day, perfectly wrong weather for the occasion. It’s probably not anything to look at but I always wanted to without all that damn dust and debris in the way.

There is real work I need to do and here I sit.

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