What came over that hill

I have been spending some time cleaning up old photographs down in the photo basement. Not a real basement, but that directory on your computer that is tantamount to a real basement of boxes spilling over with junk you either don’t know what to do with or of stuff you find valuable even though you can’t explain the reason. Since I moved to Austin, it’s been nice to explore the new geography and fresh photography frontiers, but with that lingering mess in the basement, it’s hard to focus on the new. But in most arts I’ve dabbled in, the adage proves true—art is never finished. Only abandoned.

 I have a room I want to decorate with black and white photography so I have been perusing those bloated, misshapen boxes. Above is an elephant from a zoo (I honestly don’t remember the one) I pulled this one from the archives, and I’m not sure why I haven’t processed it previously. Texture has always been an element in photography I’m drawn to, and elephants seep it in leathery folds.