Dreamscapes 2 / December 19, 2019 by a zugunruhe

Overnight trains across the country travel through stretches of land that give voyeur-esque passage through the lights of distant homes, cars, and fires who are echoed in the sky by the few stars that come out.

Isolation can alter how we perceive our environment. Our minds fill in the negative space and create a fragile surreality that can be broken by a flash of light or any familiar, steady presence.

While the original Dreamscapes aimed to capture the the unreal environment of the midnight sun in the Arctic Circle, the aim of this set is to capture the negative space of rural America to find new unique shapes and patterns with the available light.

Also, these just look kind of cool.

Textures: Los Angeles / May 16, 2019 by a zugunruhe

There’s a documentary that begins with a producer in NYC, describing how he was watching the OJ Simpson chase live on TV. He recalls watching the that white Bronco speeding through cars on the highway and beginning to cry. When asked what was wrong, he responded “That light. It’s just so good”

The natural light in Los Angeles has organically produced styles of lighting and photography through its shear force. That incredibly bright, washed out feel is a natural part of Southern California.

The physical and social diversity of Los Angeles is expansive. The light only makes everything more vibrant.

Textures: El Paso / January 16, 2019 by a zugunruhe

For more info on Textures, click here.

I’ve never received a clear definition for "El Chuco," a.k.a. El Paso.

I’ve read and heard it translates to “The ugly one,“ “disgusting,“ “dirty,“ and that it's a call back to Pachuco, the subculture of Mexican-Americans in the 1930’s associated with zoot suits that originated in the area.

The term is a self-deprecating term of endearment for the city. The people here know they don't live in a glamorous city and accept it in a positive way. Of course, there are some who mire in the self-defeating attitude of not realizing how unique and wonderful the area is, but there are others who do realize the region's potential and they are making such an amazing scene.

Vibrant colors set against the various sands of the Chihuahuan desert and the Franklin Mountains give the city its visual appeal while the people make everyone feel at home. Being in El Paso was such a wonderful experience from the first time I visited to the last time I left.

The problems in Juarez brought over established businesses and incredible food into EP, the kernels of establishing long-term art and music scene infrastructure are popping, and, well, Chico’s Tacos is amazing.

It’s the most beautiful ugly one I know.

All shots in this post were made using a Sony A7Rii and Voigtlander 40mm f/1.2

Textures: Marfa / January 9, 2019 by a zugunruhe

My first trip to Marfa is what made me fall in love with West Texas. It was 2009 and I hadn’t experienced the slow dolly zoom of those straight-as-an-arrow roads in my 20 something years living in Texas.

Through five decades, this small section of Texas was taken over by artists and used, in a conscious manner, for its isolation and landscapes. It’s a wonderful experience to drive through miles of rocky pre-desert off an interstate to arrive at a town where an enormous late Warhol piece hangs a stone throw from the county courthouse.

By the time I visited, Marfa was already a force. Donald Judd had strewn his boxes about and the Prada store had existed, it just didn’t have Instagram and Beyonce. Over the years that I have come back, it slowly morphed into a tiny town with a hotel plucked out of SoHo, artisanal cocktail bitters, and possibly the worst Dairy Queen in the country.

While the town emits this varied vibe that is fun to take in and participate within, it’s beginning to feel like a West Texas town themed glamping complex.

Full disclosure: I bought the artisanal cocktail bitters.

All shots in this post were made using a Sony A7Rii and Voigtlander 40mm f/1.2

Textures: Austin / January 2, 2019 by a zugunruhe

For more info on Textures, click here.

I lived in Austin for six years when I only intended to be there for two. I got caught in the velvet rut.

I will always love Austin for what it was for such a long time; a haven for people in Texas who don’t fit in in their small towns. In political terms, it’s the blueberry in the tomato soup. But the left-leaning ideas didn’t matter as much to me as the incredible amount of expression and energy I was exposed to in this city. This discovery of other ideas and ways of life allowed me to completely retool how I see life and myself.

I had only lived in my home town of El Campo and the larger, but still small, city of Lufkin. It was in Austin that I became so aware of the world. And that’s what makes it so special for so many people. It’s a clusterfuck of people awkwardly stepping out into new skins surrounded by shepherds of the weird.

All shots in this post were made using a Sony A7Rii and Voigtlander 40mm f/1.2