Black & White Street Photography, Photography

Of visual interest and bloviation


I’m a photographer. That’s what my daughter is telling everyone anyway. I walk around with my camera hanging off my neck or shoulder. I struggle. I question myself constantly. I push myself out of my comfort zone and go for it, and sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I miss the shot. Sometimes my camera malfunctions just as the decisive moment is blooming before my eyes. I sweat and my glasses get foggy. I try sitting around and blending in, and I also run around like crazy trying to squeeze myself into moments.


I try and look for meaning. I try to find people that I empathize with. The out of the ordinary. Someone who knows ridicule and shame and awkwardness and feeling anxious all the time. I look for that in people, because that’s how I feel. Angry people, people with power, the authoritarians the meek, the affluent, and everyone else in between. I’m curious about them. I’m curious about you.


I don’t make money, and I work with what I can afford, which isn’t much when you think about how truly expensive a photographer’s tools are. I shoot with one lens. A 21mm prime. I keep trying to branch out and try different focal lengths but nothing feels as good as that 21.


I think a lot about violence and how it is celebrated in our society. In the movies, on television, in our kids video games and cartoons. It has always bothered me and it never surprises me when I hear of a school shooting or any other type of violence. Humans fight and kill. Always have, always will. I don’t think we take it seriously enough. I don’t think we give it the respect it deserves. Glorifying it is wrong, yet it is the norm. I’m only one person, I can’t change it so I document it and study it and question it and bloviate about it on my personal web log.


I only share about 1 percent of what I shoot. Hundreds of thousands of images seen by my eyes only currently live on the several hard drives in my collection. I still feel like my best isn’t good enough, and it always seems like I’m chasing that next level no matter how many compliments and likes and words of encouragement I receive. I don’t even have a speedlite yet, three or four years into this obsession with photography and no external flash yet. What kind of a joke is that? A photographer with no flash.


So these images are just random things I see in my everyday life. I usually end up walking around downtown aimlessly just waiting for something to happen. I imagine that will be the same no matter where I go. I tend to stay away from other photographers although sometimes I find myself in a pack of them desperately wishing I could find the one place they are all ignoring so I can capture something “different”-whatever that is.


There are just too many of us. Everything has been done, and the things to do that really push the envelope involve purchasing or acquiring super expensive gear and going to dangerous lengths to capture it. So I’m not a Nat Geo super photographer scaling cliffs and diving to the deepest depths or a guy listening to police scanners and rushing to the scene of the latest fire or other major catastrophe. I’m just a guy wandering around with a camera, observing life.


I’ve learned that everyone is beautiful and ugly at same time. I’ve learned that some of us are uglier than others and I’m not talking about physical appearance. I’ve learned we are all complicated and have our own stories to tell. We are self-centered and egotistical. Caring and kind. We love each other, we hate each other, we can’t get enough. We always want more.


We all live and die. Some of us get a long time, and some of us are gone too soon. All of us have taken it for granted at some point. It is our nature. Photography is my way of appreciating life. Even if I never make a dime, even if I never become a superstar photog, I will always be taking pictures.

genesis of thought
we can do amazing things
we are the humans

The Family Circle

Together as One

the family ties
we persevere through this life
 together as one

Black & White Street Photography

The Egomaniacal

RATON, New Mexico-August 31, 2014- Patrons at the local Sonic Drive-In contemplate the menu in the late afternoon sun.

RATON, New Mexico-August 31, 2014- Patrons at the local Sonic Drive-In contemplate the menu in the late afternoon sun.

staring at shadows

the egomaniacal



Life, Photography

Waiting for a train.

No matter how far away you stand your smoke still showers my face. I breathe in your stench as I sit on a cold metal bench made purposely uncomfortable out of iron slats. Homeless proof. Nothing a thick blanket couldn’t remedy. A sliver of the moon still hangs visible above me. The sun is rising in a thin soft yellow band across the horizon. It melts into the dark blue sky and sheds its light. The silhouettes of pedestrians move across the bridge. Old people push walkers, bicyclists pedal their bikes, mommies and daddies and little kids in a hurry. The half-awake masses stumbling to the starting gate.
















Bathrooms of America

I’ve been traveling through Colorado and New Mexico the last few days and I subconsciously captured every foreign bathroom I encountered along the way.

I think I suffer from some embarrassing malady like Irritable Bowel Syndrome. I say “like” because I’ve never really had it diagnosed but I’m positive that something is wrong. A trip to the doctor lies in my future, a future filled with embarrassing conversations and uncomfortable truths. This is aging.

When a sudden attack arises I always regret not having planned out where the nearest bathroom is. Whenever I get that “Damn, I gotta hit the head in a hurry” feeling nothing else matters but finding it and taking care of business. It hurts which in turn makes me angry, and then I’m just like “I don’t give a f*ck just get out of my way.

Anyway. This is all TMI I’ m sure. The point is I’m in bathrooms a lot and I’m a photographer. At least that’s what I’m calling myself these days. A cross eyed weirdo photographer with IBS who obsessively takes pictures when he’s stuck in bathroom purgatory.

I’d say that the bathrooms I encountered on this trip were pretty substandard. The bare minimum was being done to keep them operating and clean. One didn’t have soap and I realized that I might be obsessive compulsive about washing my hands because I was freaking out about it on the inside.

One was flooded. One had a picture with a broken frame and shattered glass. One was still warm from the guy before me. I’m sorry. Public bathrooms just make me sick, but I’m so grateful for them regardless.

Not that it’s breaking news or anything, but it would seem that taggers LOVE bathrooms. I saw an etched tag around the toilet seat today. All I could think about was how long it took that person to get their name cut into a nasty toilet seat that may have seen as many as a million asses over the years and how close was his face?

Racism still shows up in public bathroom stalls which is another photo essay altogether. Sadly, I guess nothing’s shocking anymore.

These are the bathrooms of the road. The ones that saved me from having to squat in a bush or risk a ticket for public urination. The place I spend 70% of my life. Bathrooms.













Basic Video Editing, Black & White Street Photography

Social Deviance on the D Line

j_nix_streetwork (1 of 1)-463

I got sidetracked and jumped on the wrong train.

 I got off at the Sheridan station and saw these two guys dancing and gyrating on the platform. 

 I couldn’t hear them though. I was buried in my headphones too. 

 They worked together. One rapped, while the other bobbed his head and interjected a few 

 YEAH BITCH’s in there. 

 None of us made eye contact. 

 None of us said a word. 

 The girl read her book as if nothing was going on.

I think she may have been intimidated

 or maybe she just didn’t really care. 

the bitches in the pool

the bitches in the pool

out of the ordinary 

not the norm

the social deviants

are everywhere

challenging the status quo

making you uncomfortable