Cement

I've been going out lately. To places I've never been. Places I've always wanted to go. Some are physical locations, some are states of mind. Anywho. Here's a photo from one of the locations I was at recently. (Shutter release cable and new tripod for the win.

Plane.

I'm distracted. Here's a plane.

Blur

This all originated from a couple firends photos and one I took accidentally. The general idea is to make good use of blur. I haven't had much time to myself as of late, so the only exploration of this I've been able to accomplish is one just outside my place of employment. More to come. Along with a beginning of my Vegas Project.

The Palace

I heard it referred to as "The Palace" by a resident today. The "Boby Motel" is the last motel on your way out of Las Vegas by Boulder Highway. There is a story attached to this Motel. I saw it first a long time ago. The story has developed, evolved. And it's almost true in my mind.

I was far away. All I saw was the Motel, and city lights twinkling in the distance. A car was being loaded up. The door to a room open, orange light spilling into the dark, contrasting the green of the outdoor lights. A man was loading up the car with bags, quickly. A woman standing in the doorway, silhouetted. I thought the two were in love. The town had gotten ahold of them, but they had planned to leave for years. And this quiet moment, this night, was theirs. They didn't make a fuss about it. They just quietly found the exit this night. I imagine that every time the man went back into the room to retrieve another bag the couple shared a smile. I think that with one more breath of dusty air the man and woman looked at their room, closed and locked the door and got into their car. And I hope that as they pulled away they looked in their rear view mirror (because turning to look back wasn't an option) at the dance of glowing fireflies in the distance, the shimmer of their former lives, and smiled. I hope they found a place to keep this town in their hearts as the home they started from. Because every story has a beginning.

I wasn't able to get all of the shots I wanted. I didn't want to intrude on the privacy of some people standing outside. So I'll go back another day.

I then visited a place that has never been named appropriately. "The Cave" was once floated, but never caught. It simply is. Coated with grime and dirt and thought. It belongs to those who find it.