Large format camera, looking south towards 59th street bridge.

I’m still going through my old view camera work looking for shots to put in the store. Man, that was some lens. Rodenstock something, maybe a 75mm?  There’s an overpass, halfway into the shot and you can easily read the sign.  You can make out lamps and a couple of armchairs in the windows on the right side.

On my third trip to Sedona, I rented a Jeep (I think it was a Jeep) and wandered around until towards the end of the day I found this cow pasture. I put the tripod up on the roof of the car, and took a couple of shots as a storm approached. Each time I visited Sedona I went with a different camera. The first trip (the Rock of Ages Church) I did with the view camera.

Second trip with the Pentax 67. And this was done with the Contax G2.

While I was on this trip I got a flat, and couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to get the spare tire off the back of the car. A guy - maybe he was the owner wandered by - and sizing me up as a city slicker had pity on me and helped me detach the spare and replace the flat.

I was always getting into trouble on that last trip. Too cocky. I kept going up and down this really rough road and got a second flat. This time I knew how to change it; but the road - I can’t remember the exact name but it was something like Danger Road - was too narrow for some of the larger SUVs to pass me, and after a while I caused a traffic jam in Sedona and this time some sort of ranger guy helped me with the spare.

I don’t know - a bunch of other stuff happened. I stepped on a snake. Once I almost bumped into two bear cubs. Nature - nature scared me.

The scariest time was when I went to an ancient Indian site - and standing by the rubble - I could look out in all directions and not see a single person. Absolutely terrifying. I remember standing there just wondering what would happen if… all sorts of spooky stuff went through me mind.

Eventually, a load of tourists piled out of a bus and I felt a little better. But the idea of being so isolated, even if it was only for an hour or so - well - that did unhinge me. I’m guessing that people who are used to that sort of thing get nervous when you jam them into a subway car.

2008. During the winter, at around 3:00, this light reflects from a condo window onto the sign. These tidbits of confluence interest me. I can’t attribute any meaning to it; but nevertheless I have a collection of shots of this sign taken when the shadow of the window frame splits the sign in half.  Maybe it’s my personal urban sundial.

The sign is hand-painted. Viewing it at full size I can see the paint strokes, and some corrections. Maybe it reminds me of the work my grandfather did. I know that for several years he worked as a sign-painter. I used to watch him sometimes, with that stick to rest his painting arm on. He came here from Russia where he played oboe in the Moscow symphony orchestra.  I guess the sign works because I’ve never seen a parked car in the driveway.

Happy holidays.