Rhyme for Reason by Proximity League
I can’t believe it’s been a month since my previous post. I mean I can, but still. I’m going to blame it on my new
I can’t believe it’s been a month since my previous post. I mean I can, but still. I’m going to blame it on my new
Well, I’m back, albeit after a brief hiatus of sorts. I switched web services yet again, I reverted back to my previous host, and maintain my
After a full day of familial obligations, I thought for the day after Christmas it would be nice to kick it with some friends. Not that my Christmas was particularly hectic, as I don’t allow myself to be swept up in the peppermint undertow; a task more simply stated than accomplished.
Fog hung in the air as I crossed the Susquehanna headed to an undisclosed location in Harrisburg. After circling the well-lit blocks of historic Midtown for what felt like a small eternity, I found a spot to park. It was perfect. It had plenty of space and was the last spot behind a “no parking” sign, meaning I could pull right in. Behind me were the flickering orange lights of the Harvey Tailor Bridge, their effect magnified by the low hanging mist that clung to the river.
Prior to March 14th 2017 Harrisburg Pennsylvania was on track to have the least snowiest winter in all of the years of recorded weather. But winter storm Stella had something to say that. I’m not entirely sure when or why we started naming storms, but whatever, Stella dropped 17 inches of fresh pow on most of the keystone state.
A few weeks back I was cold kickin’ it when my cell phone jumped off the ringer. It was my good friend Bill. I could hear an elation in his voice that is usually not present. He blurted forth that he and his family had just purchased a small cabin along the Conewago Creek in northern York County.
Named for a berry, but wasn’t shit sweet about it. A few weeks ago I linked up with a fellow photographer by the name of Gabe
As implied at the end of the previous post, here are the black & white photos from my recent night trip into downtown Harrisburg.
A couple of months ago friend of mine asked if I would be interested in hanging some photographs in his business. He owns a local legend of an establishment here in Harrisburg, Pa and it would be an honor to see some of my work on its walls. But until everything is official and photographs are hanging, we shall keep its name in obscurity’s selective shadow.