Seven Ways to Sunday

Peter Earl McCollough


3/30/09 Hotel Room


3-27-09-la-kate_140-clr-web

Don’t know how I feel about hotel rooms. Clean but worn, safe but vulnerable, enjoyable but costly. They symbolize escape and relief but are generic, impersonal, communal. A strange intersection between private and public. When I am in them I can never stop thinking about what has taken place in that room or what is taking place in the adjacent room. How many people have cried on this pillow or made love on these sheets? How was their life different when they left? When I leave these places I am dreary with a sense of conformity as if during the night I absorbed all the stories the walls have watched unravel. I walk away with a sense that people don’t change but run in the same circles in new ways, rarely learning from the past.

This entry was written by Peter Earl McCollough, posted on March 30, 2009 at 11:32 pm, filed under Personal, Travels and tagged , , . Leave a comment or view the discussion at the permalink and follow any comments with the RSS feed for this post.



3/27/09 Randy’s Donuts

Been in L.A. this week. Went to some photo galleries and cruised the town. Saw a Todd Hido print. Very nice. Ate at Randy’s Donuts. Coffee was gross. Headed to Santa Barbara to taste wines. Will post more when I return to Sacramento.

This entry was written by Peter Earl McCollough, posted on March 27, 2009 at 10:17 am, filed under Personal, Travels and tagged , , , . Leave a comment or view the discussion at the permalink and follow any comments with the RSS feed for this post.



3/16/09 War Rabbit Cold in Michigan


I remember he was a Vet. More than likely he was a salty-ass Vietnam Vet dressed like a big white-rabbit for children. How strange. Don’t recall. I do remember it was a VFW near Flint, MI. I almost never tell Veterans that I am one of them too, I prefer to be unknown. Much like how you can shoot an assignment for hours and end up only having one random photo lodged in a hard drive to remind you of the experience. All the people become faceless in memory… reduced to an emotional or visual topography that you navigated for X hours; I walked here, I waited there, I squirmed this way for this photo of whomever. I probably took a picture of the War Rabbit and a child that ran in the paper the next day that made someone happy or embarrassed. Maybe his long lost father saw it and was ashamed. Maybe the kids at school ridiculed him. Maybe this child was staring at me as I worked and a few minutes later they cut their finger and will forever associate the two until we meet again. Maybe at a gas station in North Dakota and maybe they will hate me and they won’t be able to figure out how so. I do hope.

This entry was written by Peter Earl McCollough, posted on March 16, 2009 at 1:09 pm, filed under Americans and tagged , , , , , , , . Leave a comment or view the discussion at the permalink and follow any comments with the RSS feed for this post.



3/13/09 Sophia’s Hill for Friday the 13th


It was a hill of grand gestures that lay in the middle of a working class neighborhood where we became victory.

This entry was written by Peter Earl McCollough, posted on March 13, 2009 at 11:24 pm, filed under Personal, Portrait and tagged , , , , . Leave a comment or view the discussion at the permalink and follow any comments with the RSS feed for this post.



3/12/09 Trabajador

I don’t know this man’s name. He was raking dirt in a walmart parking lot in Ohio. I don’t speak Spanish so we said nothing, I just took a quick couple of pictures. His face intrigued me, he could be in the movies.

This entry was written by Peter Earl McCollough, posted on March 12, 2009 at 2:54 pm, filed under Americans, Portrait and tagged , , , , , , . Leave a comment or view the discussion at the permalink and follow any comments with the RSS feed for this post.



3/7/09 The Salt



Funny how you can spend energy trying to perfect a craft by adding complexity or depth and in the end these ideas fall away because what holds value to you actually required little thought, as these ideas were already such a reality.

This entry was written by Peter Earl McCollough, posted on March 8, 2009 at 1:39 am, filed under Personal, Portrait and tagged , , . Leave a comment or view the discussion at the permalink and follow any comments with the RSS feed for this post.



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