The days pass while living abroad as they do back home. Some people go through ordinary days in strange ways and I marvel at the strange days I go through in ordinary ways. The exotic and even the frightening quickly become everyday and you feel almost at home until something reminds you of what you left behind. It is almost always a small thing that triggers the nostalgia, the one mysterious bag of Tostitos in a Mumbai grocery store, the sound of Hank Williams playing on a tinny Russian car speaker in the Carpathian Mountains, or the sympathetic Texan voices of the folks at Saddleback Leather Company.Continue reading “THE SADDLEBACK LEATHER CO INDIANA BAG”
Potentially huge news for instant photographers, the majority shareholder of Polaroid is now the same majority shareholder of Impossible Project. Impossible is the last manufacturer of instant pack film (the type our one steps require) and is preparing to release their new Gen 4 color formula any time now. Their Gen 3 color film was met with widespread praise and is considered by many (myself included) to be their best color film yet.
No information yet from Impossible or Polaroid as to what this may mean for their brand and future. But it’s certainly big news that has the potential to change the instant film landscape.
On a small grass mound between two roads on the edge of a small town, sits a small shrine featuring details in construction from the years past railroad industry. Continue reading “THE MATHENY RD SHRINE”
You know you’re getting a older when the first thing on your Christmas list is socks. Either that or they’re one heck of a good sock. I think I prefer the latter. Of course I also asked for a Cold Steel 1917 Boarding Cutlass… My wife got me the socks… Continue reading “WIGWAM SOCKS”
RUS RUS, La Miskitia, Honduras—On my first trip to Honduras, more than 12 years ago, we were on another plane full of missionaries and Hondurans returning home. As the jet banked to descend into San Pedro Sula there were thatched huts and fields of palms and a river dark with red silt curving over the flat plain. Some missionary kid a row or two behind me began whistling the theme to Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark and I thought, “This is how it ought to begin.” Continue reading “RUS RUS”
Recently I was given unprecedented access to the Roseville Prison. The prison is now privately owned and is closed off to the public, photographers, documenters, urban explorers, journalists or anyone else who wants to see this historical and supposedly haunted location up close.
It is the black hours before dawn. The boat pushes out into the slow current. The ghats and towers of the ancient city are outlined with dim electric bulbs and small fires. Their glow creates a half circle of light over the river that fades into the black of the sky and the uninhabited sand-dunes of the other bank. It is quiet and I whisper to myself, “You are floating down the Ganges by the banks of Varanasi. You are here.” Continue reading “VARANASI: IT IS THE BLACK HOURS BEFORE DAWN”