Overwhelmed
I slammed on the brakes, barely stopping before jumping out of the car. The light was going fast and I had only minutes — a couple of shots, taken instinctively, no time for anything else.
I almost missed it entirely. This station has been almost missed for years now. A classic Whiting Brothers — the kind that once lined every desert highway through the Southwest — surrendering slowly to the scrub. The canopy sign has half-collapsed. Weeds press in from every side. Nature is not waiting for a decision about what comes next.
I took a breath and felt the abject resignation of it. Not sadness exactly — something heavier. The overwhelm of watching something that cannot be saved, and knowing there's no intervention coming.
The sky was that particular desert pink, the last gasp before darkness. It felt like the end of the gasoline era had already happened, and was still happening, all at once.
I believe in connecting personally with those who appreciate my work. Each print is created through conversation—we'll discuss what drew you to this image, then I'll oversee every detail from paper selection to presentation.