More photographs from the archives, these from around 2007. Almost six years ago, my god. 

I had the most wonderful rock and mineral collection when I was a child. My uncle became a geologist, and somehow, out of all children in our vast vast family, his collection from childhood made its way into my hands. A dusty cigar box full of specimens collected since the 60s. With it my parents gifted me with a beautiful field guide, and to this day, I love perusing the field guides in bookstores, flipping the pages near my face and breathing the smell in deeply. I wonder what it is about the paper that they use that smells completely unique. Whenever we passed by rock shops, my parents would stop so that I could add new rocks to the box. I remember stopping at a shop in Hatch, Utah, where an old bearded man with a round belly (my mind may or may not be implying the suspenders I see), who was hardly moved when we excitedly told him our last name, stood indifferently behind the counter. When I was a teenager, I decided that I was too cool for my rock collection, along with the extensive postcard and decorative spoon collection that were accumulated through my dad's world travels. Oh, those horrid lost years when we decide that we're everything but ourselves. 

These beautiful specimens are housed in the Harvard Natural History Museum.


  1. I love your rocks! I love your rocks! And everything else above and below. But yeah, I'll choose this post, to drop by and say hi today, since it's right here in the middle, so I can fire a quick compliment in both directions. First, can I tell you, before I read a word, or caught that last line in the entry immediately preceding this, I was wondering if it was from the same place as that witch wild landscape from your other shoot- And it was! I like this one. I like how you are swaying alongside (and in tune) with those verdant towers. Would you want to print them as a pair for me? This one and it's seasonal antipode... They could live on in the same hall, like mirrors of one another, in diptych form. Well, if you are game, do let me know.

    For you - I love all your women (and all your selves)! They could be innocents or fatales, or both and more, but always unique and without comparison the way they are to me. I'm happy you decided to share the summer Gabriel

    Finally, I don't know if you are dark to me... Perhaps, as I reflect on it, you are just dark enough to strike the right balance in your work, (and that's important, I think, important for serious people to have that) but not so dark that I can't see you shining, or kaleidoscope off into bright places and many colored realms where my heart is often wont to go.

    I hope you always keep creating and sharing your work here. I like coming to this place

  2. Jason--thank you!

    Well, I sent the winter one to you a couple of months ago, yes? With your big print order in August? This is what I'm recalling--an enlargement of it. I haven't done a print order in a long while, but yes, I could try to get a good print of this summer one for you. Let me know what you have in mind.

    It is relief for me if the balance is seen. I agree, my greatest goal is to always push the tension between the two extremes.

    Thank you, as always, for coming here.

  3. Yeah definitely. The winter one is already up in the Kris Hatch corner, what I meant to say before, but there is yet room for the summer one just to the right of it. Lets cook an X-mas plan!

    I'll shoot you a line soon when I have the scratch.
    Ever the best to you, truly