Fugitive.

So the news follows me sometimes. I don't know that this is interesting to news outlets like that Ben Bridge robbery, but police searched Mercedes-Benz today because they were chasing a fugitive. Here are some photos:

Winter Break: Urban Shooting

Deanna and I drove until we found interesting things. Then we took photos. Enjoy what I came up with!

Sunset closely followed by adventure.

So I went to a spot I love and watched the sunset for the first time in a long while. It was very pretty, here are a few shots from that. After that I went on an adventure to somewhere I've always wanted to go. The Stratosphere. Not the elevation, the casino. It was truly amazing if a bit windy.

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.

Lightning.

When there's a thunderstorm warning, my first instinct isn't to stay inside and be safe. It's to call up a friend and head out to the nearest mountain range.

All That Glitters

Last night my dear friend Alex and I explored much like we would normally. We found a place. We walked around and for reasons unknown to us, but perhaps to someone else, our way was not obstructed by gate, lock or door. We found ourselves in the center of a forgotten mystery. And in the hours that passed we slowly pieced together what we had found. Maps of Arizona, shelves of chemicals, kilns of varying sizes, rocks, books, a bed, generators, antique furniture. Words to describe our treasure are as follows, given to me to post by that friend Alex. He sent this to me in the early hours of the next morning for all of you to read:

"When you wander the streets in Las Vegas, there are certain things you just don't expect to find, but you often do. You don't expect the condom lying at your feet near a busy intersection. You don't expect buildings from your childhood in the middle of the city to be randomly demolished. You don't expect the sweet lady who gives you 15 dollars when you really need the money for food. And you just don't expect the phrase "all that glitters is gold" to somehow become slightly more relevant to your own life.

I guess what I'm trying to say here is: wander the streets of the Las Vegas valley a bit more. Every once in a while something interesting happens. Like stumbling upon an abandoned gold smelting operation.

I sure as hell wasn't expecting what seemed like a cement mixing facility, and then a pottery facility, and then a furniture restoration operation, and then… Fuck it, I didn't expect any of it. Gold, directions on do-it-yourself gold extraction, enough chemicals to kill every horse in a medieval army… I'm sure if you tried hard enough, you could re-invent Greek fire in this place.

What made me happiest was the simpler aspects of things: an unremarkable man's photo album (I mean no offense) and a random mining and smelting operation that was once going on right in the middle of our wonderful city (*cough*)… And not super-industrial, either!

The mood was set by several surprising things being unlocked, and the occasion was almost ritualistically sealed sometime around moonrise.

And I strangely find myself wondering after all this: I wonder if there is gold on the moon….

Oh, and remember kids: all that glitters is gold! Or something that could make it, anyways!"

And with those words, photographs.

Underpass photography

Driving around Las Vegas and Henderson reveals to the trained eye that there is much hidden beauty in this valley. Beauty that some might think belongs only in wilderness. But to me, and a few others, the valley is riddled with beauty in every corner.

Steven and I discovered a set of three (possibly more) bridges. The most beautiful being a red brick one. Under the first we discovered two homeless men who cackled quietly in the dark while we took photos. At the second we discovered beautiful water and toads. The third was plain and we turned back.

The first:





The second:

Alystra: Mourning

I visited The Alystra Site a couple of days ago. Few things remain. scraps of wood painted sky blue. Glass shards. Tile. And a foundation. A foundation that once supported the majestic casino. The space where the building once stood is like a massive grave site. The only remaining structure is the stage that was once within the walls. Beneath it was once a vault. Now it is exposed to open air and filled in with dirt. The marquee still stands, a depressing sight without it's partner. The marquee is now a massive marker, a tombstone for the the fallen Alystra. I walked atop the foundation and tried to imagine what once was. 'Here was the front entrance' I told myself 'And over here was the main gambling hall'. It all started to break down when I tried to continue. At least we have the memories, an a few pretty rectangles of frozen time.

I walked out of town today.

I took a walk today. I ended up walking out of town via Boulder Highway. It was a surprisingly emotionally stirring experience. I felt like continuing on and going on some sort of soul searching journey. What Ended up happening however is that I turned around. And when I did, I encountered what you would if you were coming into Las Vegas from that way. My first sight was the vast expanse of city lights. The next, the first motel you'd see on your way in. I watched as a couple repacked their car, left their room and drove out of the city. In my world, they left the city forever. They barely escaped gambling debts and habits that will take years to overcome. The photos I took of this experience are as follows.