Interacting with My Past: Europe in Black and White

Posted on Posted in Black and WhiteTagged , , ,

Every now and again I stumble across these photos on an external hard drive. These grainy low-resolution murky relics hark back to those days of my early 20s when I was lost and full of angst. They represent some of my first big travels from home and first forays into digital photography. In early 2005, I was in the depth of a depression and had just dropped out of college feeling a general sense of indirection. After working a couple of shit jobs (including working in a fish processing plant) I decided maybe I needed to broaden my horizons. I didn’t formally quit school, so miraculously I was able to negotiate an exchange to the University of Stirling Scotland for the fall of 2005. The reset was successful and I was able to return to my regular program in 2006 and finish out my B.A. in geography. When I was finished, I returned to Europe in 2007 as I didn’t get to do much exploring the first go-around due to my course load.

I look back fondly on these photos. They represent adventures, early 20s naiveté, remind me of old travel companions, and a time when I put less pressure on myself to take so-called good photos. Shortly before I went, I picked up a used 4 megapixel 2001 Sony Cybershot camera from near the dawn of consumer digital photography. This was a lovely little camera that I remember using with joy. Looking back on the photos, I think they are also a good reminder that I don’t need the newest or best tech to capture images that I love and want to share. It’s easy in the photography world to get sucked into gear spec measurbation. In my experience, photography websites seemed designed to make us inadequate and and often discuss gear as a way to drive ad sales. I could be a great photographer if I just bought this $2,000 camera. While I admittedly like the gear aspect, I’ve tried to reign this in over the years as I believe most of the work is on the photographer to capture an engaging composition. A 4MP camera from 20 years ago sure has its limitations but it can still create images that sing.

These photos also represent a bit of a journey in processing. I’ve edited these photos a few times over the years. In 2012, I converted a bunch of them to black and white with the software Silver Efex. I added in a whole bunch of artificial grain in the effort. While they might be a bit overbaked, I think it lends a bit to the lower resolution look and I like it. Recently, I combed through the images again and converted a few to black and white with Adobe Lightroom.

I’m sure this isn’t the last time I’ll look at and re-process images from my 20s. It’s a fun way to remember experiences, interact with my past, and a good reminder that the onus of a good photograph falls on the person holding the camera—and not the device itself. I’m glad I can share them here for you enjoy.

Many people standing on hexagonal-shaped rocks by the ocean.
Giant’s Causeway, Northern Ireland. 2007.
View of a city and river from the top of a cathedral. Cathedral spires stick up in the right side of the photo.
Köln, Germany. 2007.
Back of a man looking at a vew of a city.
Zagreb, Croatia. 2007.
Person walking a path among a forest above a river with several bridges.
Budapest, Hungary (though it’s possible this was Prague). 2007.
View to a city, castle on a hill, and river from the top of a rocky crag.
Stirling, Scotland. 2005.
View to a church building, cliffs, and hilly landscape.
Škocjan Caves Regional Park, Slovenia. 2007.
Gravestones with trees and buildings.
Stirling (or possibly Edinburgh), Scotland. 2005 or 2007.
Group of people looking at guards under a gate.
Prague, Czech Republic. 2007. I believe this was changing of the palace guard?
Selfie of me looking at the camera by a roadside sign under mountains.
Glencoe, Scotland. 2005. Waiting for the bus to Glasgow.
Man looking down at the camera with a basilica towering over him.
Kris at the Sacré-Cœur Basilica, Paris. 2007.
People skating on a large rink to the right of a castle.
Budapest, Hungary. 2007.
Group of people at the opening of a large cave.
Škocjan Caves Regional Park, Slovenia. 2007.
A child looks at a person playing a number of small tubs with a stick under an overpass.
London, England. 2005 (possibly 2007).

Do you have a set of photographs that you’ve experienced a journey with?

January 15, 2022

Posted on Posted in Fronts and Sides, New TopographicsTagged ,

“Ecotone” comes from the field of ecology and generally refers to a transitional area between two different communities. That word comes to my mind frequently walking in Omaha. An area of town north of Cuming street near Creighton University is a major conglomeration of ecotones. It’s an area in which old factory-turned apartment buildings combine with industrial areas, low-income housing, and cookie-cutter housing tracts that look straight out of suburbia. The photo below caught my eye on a cold January day exploring the area. I think it’s also a new addition to my series Omaha Gothic.

Grain silo and other factory buildings lit by late afternoon light with a snowy abandoned lot strewn with conex containers in front.
Omaha, NE. January 15, 2022.

January 17, 2022

Posted on Posted in Urban Sprawl4 Comments

It’s been awhile since I’ve worked on my Omaha urban sprawl project. Urban sprawl photography on the outskirts of Omaha feels like an important project, but I find it incredibly challenging and requires more driving around than I’d like. Yet this month, I felt this project tugging. There is something about snow and bright blue skies against bulldozed landscapes that were once cornfields, and before that prairie. I wonder, are cookie-cutter developments symbolize the so-called “inventively of progress,” or are they representative of something more sinister?

Yet, I remind myself my 1910-era home in Midtown Omaha was once on the edge of the cornfields and prairie. Bruce Springsteen sang in 1978, “There’s a darkness on the edge of town.” Interesting how that edge of town someday becomes the center. Still, walking among burned out buildings and impoverished streets toward the center of town, I wonder why we can’t take care of what we already have.

Temporary street sign in a bulldozed lot with a housing development behind.
Omaha, NE. January 22, 2022.
Three diamond-shaped signs signal the end of a roadway in front of a large bulldozed lot
Omaha, NE. January 22, 2022.
Sign in front of a snow-covered cornfield that depicts a person showing a couple a new Deer Crest housing development. Words read, "Let's build!"
Omaha, NE. January 22, 2022.
Road winds around a new housing development on one side and a large powerline cooridor on the other.
Omaha, NE. January 22, 2022.
Row of homes behind a bulldozed field.
Omaha, NE. January 22, 2022.

Found. Stay lost.

Posted on Posted in Found Objects, Fronts and SidesTagged

Omaha, NE. 2020-21

2020-21. A year of strange juxtapositions, hypocrisy, and incongruities if there ever was one. The year I settled into a new job in a new place, which was supposed to bring stability. But—we all know the story. And yet—landing a year-around job in late 2019 turned out to be an amazing stroke of luck. I was able to hole up in my apartment and worked a stable job while everything went to shit.

And still. Not everything went to shit. 2020 was also the year I met Rachel, a wonderful soul that somehow made her way that same year from Oregon. Incongruities. Who could have guessed I’d meet someone in the same year it was terrifying seeing people?

Which leads into me talking about photography. Speaking of seeing people, you won’t see any people in these photos (except for me, seen at right). I suppose that makes sense in a year in which seeing people was generally kind of terrifying. There is definitely a lot of evidence of people, however, in these photos. Items left behind in alleys. Stately homes seen from vacant lots. Or maybe signs of humans to come in newly bulldozed farm fields. Signs of life, but definitely at a distance. I’m not sure if these photos mean anything except for that. Quiet observations of the evidence of human existence in a new city from a distance.

Also, hey. Are you vaccinated yet?

Self portrait of a man's reflection in a window. He is holding a small camera and a street is behind.
Omaha, NE. August 27, 2020.

A portable stereo that has been melted hanging on a piece of rebar stuck into a hole in a wall.
Omaha, NE. October 24, 2020.
Vehicle fender, broken coat hanger, and other items of trash in an abandoned lot in front of a brick wall with the words "Your Mama" spray painted.
Omaha, NE. May 25, 2021.
Flowers grow overlooking a large bulldozed field
Omaha, NE. September 6, 2020.
A snowy street passes under an underpass on one side and a building with a sign that says "Redshaw Paint Supply" on the other.
Omaha, NE. January 25, 2021.
Two easy chairs in a vacant lot with a brick building and "No trespassing" sign behind.
Omaha, NE. August 30, 2020.
Three story brick building with a tree and grassy vacant lot in front.
Omaha, NE. May 25, 2021.
Building with glass doors and windows that are covered in paper from the inside next to a concrete empty lot.
Omaha, NE. August 23, 2020.
House on the right, with dirt driveway in the middle and vacant lot full of grass and building materials on the left.
Omaha, NE. September 6, 2020.
Old window sign made with stencil letters that reads, "Open till noon Satur Furn cea blower motors"
Omaha, NE. August 23, 2020.
A pile of old couches and a mattress against a brown cement wall. Writing on the wall reads "Found. Stay Lost."
Omaha, NE. June 9, 2020.
Red semi truck cab from the side seen through a patch of white flowers.
Omaha, NE. May 2, 2021.
A green jacket hangs from a broken fire escape attached to an old brick building
Omaha, NE. January 24, 2021.
Homes with new foundations and gravel in the front.
Omaha, NE. September 5, 2020.
Cylindrical grain silo towers with white buildings and red car in front
Outside Omaha, NE. July 25, 2020.
An office chair sits in the snow in front of a home and other buildings.
Omaha, NE. December 19, 2020.
Red and white sign in front of an abandoned lot that reads, "Shrago Auto Parts New and Used."
Omaha, NE. August 30, 2020.
Payphone and air hose in next to three concrete posts next to the brick wall of a gas station.
Omaha, NE. May 25, 2021.

Lonely Remnants

Posted on Posted in UncategorizedTagged ,

Quiet memorials on lonely highways

Handprints left in cement outside the abandoned school in Amboy, CA.
Hand prints left in cement outside the abandoned school in Amboy, CA.

I suppose this set is a sequel of sorts to In Between, which might just turn into a long-running project given that I’ve accepted a temporary job in the Idaho desert this summer. This set of images of abandoned structures, grit, and graffiti mostly comes from my drive on a section of old Route 66 from Barstow, CA to Kingman, AZ during a week in February 2019. I’ve also included a few images from Bakersfield and Desert Center that felt like necessary additions.

These old windy highways that have been bisected and chopped up by busy interstates feel like a testament to the explosion of population in the West: tombstones whose pitted asphalt hearkens back to an earlier time and pace. This post isn’t meant to instill or celebrate nostalgia, however; change is a constant. These old remnants of the highway system are an extension of manifest destiny which has simply just changed names and gained new lanes since.

Abandoned house on CA highway 46.
Highway 46, CA.
Burned down building and cross outside Bakersfield.
Outside Bakersfield, CA.
Rusty building outside Daggett, CA.
66. Daggett, CA.
A shopping cart and an abandoned building form two memorials along 66 between Daggett and Ludlow.
Two memorials. 66 between Daggett and Ludlow.
Run-down house in Ludlow, CA.
66. Ludlow, CA.
Crow and trashbin on the outskirts of a truckstop. Ludlow, CA.
Truckstop where I40 meets 66. Ludlow, CA.
A church, old sign, and brick in Amboy, CA.
66. Amboy, CA.
"Smile there's hope" graffiti in an old trailer outside Daggett, CA.
66. Outside Daggett, CA.
Abandoned restaurant in Desert Center, CA.
Highway 177. Desert Center, CA.