My Single Reflex

This was taken through the window of the plane taking us from Chicago to Panama City. I think half the reason I'd like to have my pilot's license is to take pictures of these amazing clouds from the topside, where we rarely view them. A mildly funny story goes with this trip. I booked the flights for our trip to the Dominican Republic and the least expensive had us laying over in Panama City for a day. I messaged friends in Tallahassee to see if they wanted to come have dinner with us as it was only a couple of hours away. It wasn't until a week before our trip that I realized our night was in Panama, not Florida. On the bright side, Brooke and I got to bop around a city we'd likely never have seen were it not for that layover.

The iconic New York City taxi...times four...divided by four? Or divided by four...times four.

Swing a camera in any direction while walking the Highline and you can find infinitely interesting subject material. Street photography? Check. Macro? Check. Landscape? Check. Portrait? Sure, if you can keep a thousand people from walking between you and your subject. Architecture? Ever so much. Often the design of two or three clustered buildings are so different that it's hard to put them together. These, different, yet the same, yet different. I did photograph the entire building, too, but this closer shot was more interesting. A bit of color. A lot of shade. Some reflection. and just a hint of not rectangular. It's hanging in my living room in black and white, but I've slowly come back to this version.

While viewing NYC from the Highline, I looked down to catch a few guys grabbing a minute or two long break. I especially dig the Montreal Expos hat on the one guy.

One of my favorite photos to this point. I imagine it being 70 years ago when people still read most of what they learned. Or when people still read...period

The inanimate (until the key is turned) objects of my affection. A Ferrari Enzo (foreground) and the 288 GTO. There are models I like better, but that's $4,000,000 worth of inanimate objects right there. Not long after this shot, the Enzo owner fired it up to leave. Uhhhhhh...I don't have words to describe the sound. The old muscle cars have a beautiful, warm grumble to them. Sport bikes have a particular mechanical, wasp-esque harmony to them that sounds great as they wind into the top of their rpm range. Even the F430 I drove on a racetrack had this high-pitched scream that beckoned me like a siren to go faster, push harder, and ignore any signs of danger...all happily done. But this Enzo? It was terrifying! I was not looking its direction when he started and revved the engine, but I spun around immediately to see my doom face to face. If an engine note were a wraith, with drivetrain sounds of gears enmeshed with stone giants and rocket launchers, it still would be less