Entering Yosemite was invigorating. Down the winding road, tree filled gullies and peaks could be seen in the gaps of rest points, or beyond silhouettes of the trees around the road. Emerging from a tunnel, we received our first clear view of the valley; a place cemented in silver after years of viewing, but calm blue skies replaced the shuddering clouds, and tourists crowded the frame as we tried to fit inside.
A sudden sense of defeat. My spirits are low after venturing out near the campsite, and having the truth strain any remaining vigor from my intentions. I can’t do this place any justice – any more than the hundreds wandering with their eyes fixed to the eye piece of their cameras, clicking away, and smiling at the playback on the LCD.
On the shores of the Merced I watched the sun falling, and things glowing, and a porcelain moon in the opposite, eastern sky above the granite. Aiming high or low, I know the bar has been set by the hand of god, and my hands feel inadequate focusing, tripping the shutter, winding the reel. Thirteen frames down, two more on the roll, and not enough film in the world to begin this story.
Apologies for all of the dust. I don’t have photoshop, and there is dust inside my scanner, so it’s hard to get rid of in the scans. Images captured on Kodak Tri-X 400 120 film. These are not finished photographs, just rough ideas.
Please note: most images posted from this roadtrip will be available for purchase. You can check out the new contact/purchasing tab (or click the blue lettering) for information.