A Year in Photos

Photography, fiction, and personal essays form my three primary creative outlets. For this blog's first 18 months, I used it primarily for photography. As I've returned to creative writing, I'll use this blog for fiction, too. Sometimes, when reality needs to be discussed more than truth, I write personal essays.

This blog will continue to showcase as many above-average photos as I can muster. Hopefully my written work will be as good or better than the visual. Whichever drew you here -- photographs or fiction, I hope you enjoy both.

Sunday, May 12, 2013

A Year in Photos: Week Twenty

I have a few different things coming this week. Tonight, at the normal posting time (11:59 PM), I'll share my senior thesis from undergrad, a short story I wrote for my last undergrad creative writing class. I felt this story would be an apt opening to this week's blog post because the story references some of the place that Found Photo Friday will feature..

This Friday's photos will be glass plates from the mid 1930s. I found these at an estate sale in January and, wow, they are beautiful. So, without delay, here are some samples of what you can expect this week.



"George and I substituted what we could and upgraded the rest without charge. By the time we got the product from the shelves and loaded in the bed of George's F150 and the U-haul, eight a.m. had come and gone. Pat's assistant, Ron – our bad boss – came to see about the hold up. Ron was thin, boney, tendoney, ugly. His girlfriend had two sons, five and seven – neither were his but he loved them as if they were. Once he told George the only reason he stayed with her was for the kids. Ron was, in the strictest sense of the word, a pervert. Twice he had been brought up on sexual harassment charges and would never progress further than assistant manager. It was a miracle he still had a job. I swore to him that the first time his behavior cost me a sale or customer I'd see him fired. As such we were not always on good terms."







No comments:

Post a Comment