Field Notes

Dad taking a selfie with his Konica T3 in 1976. He was 38. At 39, he learned he had lung cancer, and at 41 he died. I loved him very much. When I was 10 years old, my parents and I went on a cross-country trip that included stopping in Philadelphia on July 4, 1976 -- the country's bicentennial. During the fireworks show in a public park, where thousands of people had gathered, we all started singing "Happy Birthday" to our own country, spontaneously. It was very cool. Now I'm 60, the country is…

The magic number: 1908. The year my great uncle was born (his birthday was only 3 digits, 6-6-8, which is so Mr Burns), and my current rating on Lichess. My rating will never be higher. It will never be lower. I am deleting the account, and moving on. I got past the addictive elements. I learned to control my rage (mostly). I followed a reasonable discipline with it: a few games a day, analysis, puzzles, learning new openings. I visited a couple of clubs. I read a book. I do not care enough…

My daughters, Granbury TX. For Father's Day weekend, we rented a lakehouse, hiked a state park, and played poker. (I won, so I didn't have to do any chores.) I'm so glad we have this tradition. We've done it for probably 12 years now: rent someplace and hang out there for the weekend. Sometimes we go to the nearest Goodwill and buy a board game from the 70s and play it; the most recent selection was STOP THIEF, which we picked up somewhere in Arkansas. The game includes this membrane keyboard…

A healthy Devon Rex. Well, shit. I had written this long post describing yesterday's adventure, but I closed the tab before saving the draft and I don't feel like writing this again, so here's the conclusion: We adopted a starving cat who followed me home, and she turns out to be an expensive breed, which for some reason I attract. (The last one was a Himalayan, which a friend adopted.) I named her Piyat (pie-YAT), which is Tagalog for "skinny." No collar, no chip, no flyers at the HOA office…

Bama Pie Company (1936), Dallas TX. I know, I know, I said I didn't want to do documentary photography, but I have to tell the story of Bama Pie Co, because it's so cool. Cornelia Alabama Marshall started baking sweet potato pies in her kitchen in the early 1920s. She sold them at a Dallas drugstore fountain. People lined up on the sidewalk. When the Depression hit and her husband Henry lost his job, he took the family's entire savings — $1.67 — and turned her kitchen operation into a…

Had a good photowalk yesterday in South Dallas with my friend, Bob. Here are my Top Three shots. I could go into the history of these places, but then I'd slide into documentary photography, which is not really what I want to do. Bama Pie Company (1936), Dallas TX. Abandoned Tire Shop (c. 1970), Dallas TX. Abandoned Beer Store (c. 1955), Dallas TX.

Parked Trike, Tarlac Philippines. I have been preparing to move overseas my entire life. My father moved us for work, though I think he was also chasing his own father's approval, a man who'd abandoned him at 12. By the time I turned 18, I had moved 13 times within 8 cities and four states. I attended three elementary schools and two high schools. I was always the new kid, the one who wasn't from there, and while it made me feel lonely, it also made me feel self-sufficient, a world unto myself.…

Some photos I took on my walk today. A good vision exercise.

Canoes, Lake Mohegan NY. Sometimes I post something and take it down a few hours later. It's not embarrassment, or changing my mind... it's realizing that the voice that was speaking wasn't my own. It was the Critical Parent. Back in 1980, I saw a therapist for the first time. It was a year after Dad died of cancer, and Mom thought it would help. The therapist taught me a model called Transactional Analysis (TA). I absorbed it fully, the way the music you heard at 14 remains your favorite…

Cattle-Lac, Aubrey TX. Nobody really gets a PhD in "History." They defend a doctoral thesis on The Invisible Hand of Empire: British Cotton Merchants and the Reshaping of South Asian Labor Markets, 1780–1860, which demonstrates the ability to research and understand deeply. This can be applied to any topic in history. Likewise, nobody practices "photography" at an advanced level. They practice architecture, fine art, real estate, documentary, portrait, street, or wildlife photography (or any of…

Farm Truck, Denton TX. Both my photography mentor, Bob, and Claude AI agree: this is a good photograph. They say so for the same reasons: it fills the frame with a clear subject, with the barn playing a supporting role. The color and texture is interesting. It "tells a story." (I call bullshit on that last one. What's the story? "Guy parked his truck and photographer noticed it?" Perhaps it's enough to say, "This looks real, not posed." From that, we naturally speculate.) Both Claude and Bob…

Rain, Hudson River · 2026 It's been good. To be specific: I mean Facebook and Instagram. I still have a YouTube account, though I never comment there. I also love Foto, but that's a niche app for getting feedback on my photography from other photographers. It barely counts. I'm not looking for engagement, I'm looking for guidance, and I pay for it. The main thing — and the funny thing — is that I don't think anyone on Facebook or Instagram has noticed I'm gone. And that's perfectly fine with…

A friend's husband asked me to contribute something for a presentation he's putting together for his wife's 60th birthday. My instinct, naturally, was to write something — that's just how I'm wired. But he wanted a video message, so I decided to get a little creative.

Summit One Vanderbilt, Manhattan NY or How My Brain Feels Most of the Time. I realized two things about myself this morning — both embarrassingly self‑centered and exactly what a blog is for. First: camera gear. After a week in NYC carrying a Canon 5D Mark II (an excellent 18‑year‑old DSLR), I finally hit its one real limitation for me: the screen doesn’t tilt or articulate. That matters more than I expected. If you always shoot from eye level, everything ends up looking like “a person holding…

Cat, Chinatown, Manhattan NY. I'm not sure what's up with me. I suddenly feel very frustrated with myself, like everything I do is idiotic and no attention should be drawn to it. I know this isn't right, but it is how I feel. So, I'm going to take a break.

As I prepared to photograph the storefront with all the NO PHOTOS signs (and the security camera pointed at the public sidewalk I was on), the Chinese woman inside cussed at me and closed the door. I'm bad at planning vacations, and good at picking friends. Our hotel's AC died. The theater where we were going to see Book of Mormon caught fire. And we missed two planned events because I got confused about time zone differences. But... after a sweaty night, we were moved to a floor with working…

Jesus Saves, New York NY. The city has changed since I lived here 37 years ago. Back then, scenes like this were ubiquitous. Today, they’re a rare sight — which feels like either progress or just better concealment, depending on your cynicism level. People seem kinder too, and less rushed, though I wonder if they’re simply kinder to me now that I’m old. Either way, I’ll take it. The weather is gorgeous, and I’m about to lose myself in Chinatown and Little Italy — a food tour of the neighborhood…

Not my photo. eBay listing. God above, do I hate this 20 mm lens. It's like looking at the world through the bottom of a Coke bottle. You know, back when they were only 6 ounces and made of glass. I've been shooting a 50 mm lens for so long that it's just how I think — and a prime's limitations are part of what keeps me creative. I know the practical thing is get a good 28-70mm zoom and be done with it, but I don't like zooms. They're huge and heavy and expensive. I'm sending the 20mm back.…

Vacuum Repair Shop, Denton TX. I deactivated Facebook and Instagram. Feels good. I didn't delete them — my overseas family uses Messenger to stay in touch — but I slipped out without saying goodbye. If anyone comes looking, I'll point them here. Maybe.

New York New York, Las Vegas NV, 2012. For my 60th birthday, I'm going back to New York. I haven't been there since I lived there, 1988 to 1989. There's a reason for that. I have never been so alone as I was when surrounded by 7 million people. I tried to be social. Even succeeded a few times. The best was when I crashed a party at Columbia, met a pretty French girl who was taking English classes there, and we dated until she went home six months later. That was the good part. The bad part is…

Ballpark #4, Celina TX. I have hated social media for a long, long time, yet felt unwilling to quit it. It's only today that I've fully understood why. I am a relationship-centered person. I've been through many tests over many years, and that's the consistent result. My work files are organized by the person I was helping, not by the name of the project. It's just how I think. I want to relate to people. I want to talk and share my ideas and listen to theirs; that's what I'm here for. But to…

Folklórico Dancers, Celina TX. I walked and lifted weights today. I was able to help my kid with her car payment. I pan-fried gyro meat for the first time, and it was delicious. I also learned that gyros (γύρος) shares its root with gyroscope — both from the Greek for "turn," because the meat rotates on a vertical spit. I got a good shot of dancers at a Cinco de Mayo festival. I made a little more progress on Bach's Minuet in G. I resisted the urge to buy new camera gear for an upcoming trip. I…

Exhaust Vent, Bentonville Arkansas 2023 Last week, I was called before a committee of lawyers, IT executives, and my own boss. It was not to win an award. The week prior, I had used a non-approved AI to analyze a spreadsheet containing employee information. To my mind, the risk was negligible: it was a pivot table of people who had attended certain training sessions. I was trying to figure out whom to invite to a new course, and the file wasn't labeled "sensitive" — though, unknown to me, one…

Ruins of Fort Santiago (c. 1943), Manila, Philippines. In the jungle, everything rots. What the Filipinos have done to preserve Fort Santiago — a sprawling fortress and dungeon complex dating to 1571 — is remarkable. They know concrete. They build their homes from it, their roads, their stores. Everything. Where the original 1943 sections have started to wear after decades of six-month rainy seasons, they've simply reinforced it with steel. The place remains impressive and a little frightening.…

Hospital Waiting Area, Plano TX. Studying photography for five years has changed how I experience daily life. I notice more beautiful and interesting moments, like this one. Beautiful and interesting to me, anyway. One concept I've never cottoned to is the idea that a photograph needs to "tell a story." Maybe this one does — "I'm healed!" — but it doesn't have to. What I see is an empty wheelchair parked in front of a low, yellow-framed bench in a space that reads more like a boutique hotel…

Busted Barn Gate, Frisco TX I am so filled with rage lately, and I really don't know why. The buildup of a thousand little pressures, maybe. I'm not a violent person, and I haven't attacked anybody, but man... sometimes I feel like I could. I think about it. And when I catch myself in the mirror thinking about it, it's not a gleeful thing. I'm frowning. I feel trapped. That's really what it is. My career and my family life are a cage, and each month the cage gets a little smaller. Or I get…

WWII-era Abandoned Barn, Frisco TX Yesterday I finally stopped at the site of an old barn I'd seen behind an abandoned real estate office on Preston Road in the far north Dallas suburbs. For you non-Dallasites, this is like seeing a Roman ruin behind a McDonald's, at least for a rust hunter like me. It amazes me how much remains, and for how long, when old farms are swallowed by suburbs. During my exploration of the interior, my shoe got stuck and came off, and I staggered and stepped hard on…