I wish I still had my Canon A520. It was a hot mess of a pocket camera that could take reflection shots that had an aura of unreality that I’ve not been able to approach with any other camera.
The above photo still stands as one of my favorites 14 years after I took it. I love the light and latent hope within it. Here was a defunct store whose name and wares I cannot remember. It was one of several small retailers who failed in the same space. Back then, you could find closed stores with carts, but now you’ll have a hard time finding a cart in busy stores full of shoppers and merchandise.
As for the location shown above, it is still a dead zone of sorts. How we’ll repurpose fallow commercial real estate is beyond me.
If I must get lost in the woods, it is best to have a camera or two in tow. At least I was lost for just a short while.
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I had the opportunity for another photo walk this weekend. My sister and I went to Kendrick Woods, located about 10 miles west of Lima. The skies were overcast and the ground was saturated with recent rain. Despite the conditions, I am beginning to enjoy the challenge of photography on cloudy days. I still favor the rich saturation and dramatic shadows of full sunlight, but I think I learned how to adapt a bit when ideal situations don’t materialize.
This evening I share a photo I took last summer in downtown Lima. If you live in Lima, the downtown area is somewhat of a photographic cliché, a rite of passage that signifies that the hobby has become part of your identity. I really should take a new set of pictures because the downtown area is the midst of transition. One of the key buildings is getting carved into apartments, and Rhodes State will break ground on a new health sciences building very soon.
The photo above shows a reflection of Town Square in the Glass Palace, a ruthlessly geometric building that houses many of the city government’s offices. It’s an image that insists that the old cannot compete with the new. The unsteady lines of the reflected buildings remind me of an untrained hand trying to copy a master.
Before I close, I will tell you about an oddball rendition of a text message I received yesterday. As I was parking my car, I received a text message from my pharmacy. I choose to let the car read the message aloud. Its synthetic voice told me, “Your prescription that starts with Georgia is ready for pick up.”
That sounds like a hallucinogen or a sci-fi writing prompt.