now and then

i stumble up the stairs, disgruntled and full of chops. I walk out and take long drags off my smoke, muttering under my breath. who knows why, or what for. who cares.

and sometimes, now and then, the light is a forgiving mistress. covering my flaws. making the ordinary outrageous.

making my ordinary control of the camera unimaginable.

the great photographers, the ones consistantly made images that stuck to your insides, those fuckers weren't hunters of complexity. no, they were the light chasers. like storms of shadows rolling up on the mundane light can elevate the most uninspired.

it's a wonderful surprise when the light is like that.

and, later, on the photolog you will see what came of this moment.