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constant neglect

another web project. soon to be collecting cyberdust.

*scriptures*
iphone at 75mph. 

*scriptures*

iphone at 75mph. 

my favorite dairy queen. off I-75 in ashburn, georgia.

my favorite dairy queen. off I-75 in ashburn, georgia.

the story of vivian maier and john maloof.  a fantastic discovery and excavation of a photographer’s life (via maloof) that will take years to uncover. 

*home movies*

*home movies*

*holga dip*

*holga dip*

love. this.

love. this.

(via photojojo)

*mary works the fields*

*mary works the fields*

*whistle blower*
this past sunday i was photographing on a railroad track that lies to the left of  the defunct one in this photo when a cop got out of her car to ask what i  thought i was doing. with my neck and shoulders draped in a sea of cameras and my tripod in my hand, i stood there for a beat before i realized she was making a serious inquiry. i stated the obvious, and she demanded to know if i had csx’s permission to be “on their rails?”
well, indeed the fuck i do, officer. just so happens my daddy owns csx, so why don’t you hustle back to your vehicle because your arrest is imminent.
i replied that “no, i don’t have permission,” but that i  often came to the track to shoot photos, and if it was a problem i would  be happy to move it off the rail. she then started squawking on  her radio and said more than a few times to the person on the other  end that she had some retard hanging out on the tracks just waiting to be splattered. 
not wanting to be bothered with the bullshit, yet despising authority, i slowly gathered my things and mozied on over to the dead track to set up shop. still, her rants continued over how she’d found me “on the  rail!  on the rails! trespassing.” eventually she gave up on having more officers  dispatched and split, and as she peeled off, i  knew she couldn’t fathom why i was bending over some old chair, surrounded by  weeds and litter, taking photographs. just like i couldn’t  imagine whatever the hell it was she got out of wearing a badge and acting like a character from reno 911.

*whistle blower*

this past sunday i was photographing on a railroad track that lies to the left of the defunct one in this photo when a cop got out of her car to ask what i thought i was doing. with my neck and shoulders draped in a sea of cameras and my tripod in my hand, i stood there for a beat before i realized she was making a serious inquiry. i stated the obvious, and she demanded to know if i had csx’s permission to be “on their rails?”

well, indeed the fuck i do, officer. just so happens my daddy owns csx, so why don’t you hustle back to your vehicle because your arrest is imminent.

i replied that “no, i don’t have permission,” but that i often came to the track to shoot photos, and if it was a problem i would be happy to move it off the rail. she then started squawking on her radio and said more than a few times to the person on the other end that she had some retard hanging out on the tracks just waiting to be splattered. 

not wanting to be bothered with the bullshit, yet despising authority, i slowly gathered my things and mozied on over to the dead track to set up shop. still, her rants continued over how she’d found me “on the rail!  on the rails! trespassing.” eventually she gave up on having more officers dispatched and split, and as she peeled off, i knew she couldn’t fathom why i was bending over some old chair, surrounded by weeds and litter, taking photographs. just like i couldn’t imagine whatever the hell it was she got out of wearing a badge and acting like a character from reno 911.

*thy words and mouth runneth over*
i really don’t understand where people find the urge to go on and on each day on a blog. even if it’s mad interesting and funny, where does the compelling desire to share your life with strangers come from? i guess my favorite form of expression will always be speaking, but at least writing gives you a second chance to say something the way you intended it be said.  saying anything outloud can really cause a lot of problems because once you spill a secret or mutter something too loudly, there’s no backspace key to wipe away the shit you’ve started. 

so, i spent another weekend with mucho booze and cigarettes, but i did find time to photograph a friend i haven’t seen in quite a while. i was short on ideas from the outset, so it became more about capturing some pretty images of her rather than toying around. i still managed to snag an oddballer or two.

*thy words and mouth runneth over*

i really don’t understand where people find the urge to go on and on each day on a blog. even if it’s mad interesting and funny, where does the compelling desire to share your life with strangers come from? i guess my favorite form of expression will always be speaking, but at least writing gives you a second chance to say something the way you intended it be said.  saying anything outloud can really cause a lot of problems because once you spill a secret or mutter something too loudly, there’s no backspace key to wipe away the shit you’ve started. 


so, i spent another weekend with mucho booze and cigarettes, but i did find time to photograph a friend i haven’t seen in quite a while. i was short on ideas from the outset, so it became more about capturing some pretty images of her rather than toying around. i still managed to snag an oddballer or two.

*127 hours*

i remember hearing about this guy, aaron ralston, and watching his first person account of survival on a couple of news shows. i’m somewhat familiar with utah and its beautiful canyons having driven and hiked through the state on more than one great occasion. between aaron’s mind blowing tale of survival, james franco in the lead role, danny boyle as director extraordinare, and my obsession for the desert landscape, i’m very stoked about watching this story play out on the big screen.