We made it past a month and I’m still doing this. A month is sort of an arbitrary milestone to celebrate. To me, these days, if you can do something two weeks in a row, high fives all around and let’s let the social media love pour in. No monologue this week. It’s not the point, and it never was, and it never will be. Photos!
Do you know where this is? I’m not going to give you any hints. I wrote about this image, or the many versions I have taken of this image, in the introductory essay of my photo book. (A Pedestrian’s Recent History of Dallas, Deep Vellum, 2020, still available!) I originally wanted one of those iterations to be the cover, but I was consistently outvoted or ignored or briefly placated, so it probably means more to me than anyone else. And I don’t really know why. I keep coming back to this spot and I take more photos, and I don’t really know why I do that either. Because I don’t think this one is better than I’ve done before, and I don’t think—with my lack of training and with my outdated iPhone—that I can actually do much better. But I am drawn to it all the same.
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