Digging around in a box of negatives and contact sheets recently, I came upon some photographs I shot about five years ago on a trip to the Arizona desert. I’d never printed any of the images, and had pretty much forgotten them.
It’s drizzling here in the Seattle area today, and, though I am quite at home in the Pacific Northwest and comfortable with the days of gray skies and drip-drip-drip, the desert pictures do bring back memories of another time and certainly another place.
The camera is quite a presence in my life. Somewhere in a closet, in another box of much older negatives, I have pictures I shot 30 years ago of my old dorm room at Ohio State. Heck, I have negatives going back to high school. Some people keep written diaries, while I fell into the habit of making a photo-journal.
On a lazy, rainy day, I can revisit the desert without setting foot out my door.
