CONTEMPORARY EXPLORER

Like a place people only whispered about, a Greyhound Bus Depot. A poster child of the past. A small rectangular building with a temporary lot in front, emblazoned by the Greyhound logo over the door. The Dog beckoned. There was no party slaps or small children running about. These were solo travelers all weighted down it seemed with their struggles. You could read their faces often blank just staring. Only a few words were shared mostly by a few who ventured outside for a smoke. A gold cab sat waiting for a fare, the driver leaning against the station wall. Everyone waited for the call of next arriving bus, few as they were. You wondered about the name of the city they were all going to. It did not matter, the reason probably more important. Maybe a last chance at a future, a soul that needed healing, a scrap of life. Two attendants kept the place clean and issues fare tickets. The overhead florescent lights reflected off the floor and robbed any joy to be found. You wanted to reach o...

  It’s hard to find now, wedged between the giant roads 485, 85 and 77. Once the only way to forge the Catawba, boats now only a memory. The rail line still runs here tracing its way through this hard scrabble place of stone freight boxes, giant oil tank fields and trucks. Work days are long, played with blue collar rules. They gather every noon. Hungry men take their place at the Stockyard Restaurant. Long tables, hot meals and respect shared, but no talk of the hard day…

  When you embark on a journey to peace of mind, it changes you. The world begins to look different along with your place in it. This is especially true if you are a photographer. Suddenly you find yourself taking photos of scenes and objects that just are. It may be a hint of color or pattern. They tell no story and often are not related to anything, they just exist. You find them important to your being though. Perhaps it’s that they take you away from the chaotic world, giving you a moment of calm. Thomasz in his article  “I Am Learning to Photograph Things” in Frame Magazine discusses this elegantly. The photo you take may not draw any likes or width on social media, but they mean something to you. You may not be able to put the photos into words, but you feel them and that is enough…. David Young P.s. Thanks to Maurice Lauher for sharing Thomasz article with me

  The South is dotted with small towns. Many mere shadows of the past, having been abandoned by once flourishing manufacturing. They seemingly exist on the edges of what remains with store fronts boarded up, streets empty and hopes gone.  The one remaining business is the local hardware store. Each town seems to have one. Names like China Grove Hardware, Woodman’s, Ruffs, Little Parts Hardware, Cedar Lane, Beatles Ford Ferry, Goodman. Each one is a time capsule of parts and pieces. A voyage into the past and what once was. The very reason they exist is that the town and its buildings are old. You can’t find repair parts at Walmart or home depot. Only these small stores have them. Even when foot traffic dies in a town, people still beat a path to the local hardware.  Ezells Hardware in Chester is a classic example. Deep in one of the corners of the store is a book the owner calls “The Pipe Bible.” Its actually a combination of several books documenting different pipes and ...

  Jennifer Wallace in her recent WSJ article on retirement wrote about how important mattering is to well being. It’s rooted in our ancestors when making a contribution kept you in the tribe and safe. The article spurred numerous conversations on the subject. So the question is does mattering really matter? The answer is yes, but maybe in a different way than discussed. When we retire, we leave behind a portfolio of skills and experiences we used to make a difference and help people. It’s only natural you want to use them to continue helping others. To remain part of the action.  You go to the local food bank thinking they will want you to help manage or at least be on the board. But, you find they want you to restock shelves or carry out carts of groceries to waiting clients. Not what you imagined. The lack of opportunity to matter in a major way can lead to depression, a major problem for seniors. You begin to loose a sense of self. You can change all of this over time. You ...

  You could almost here it say, I am still here. The entrance and  Hallways kept clean by what seemed Like an army of workers, I wondered Who paid them?  The mall dying fast, weighed down by  A post xMas rush of shops leaving. Even the chicken burger fast food was gone, Replaced by a couple of fledgling taco kiosks. Names no one ever heard of or ever will. Only Belk and a discounter Roses held sway in  The caverns of the place. What shops were left  Stayed close to them, hoping for fall- off clients. A giant furniture discounter now rented an old  Anchor store space. The vulture type that Circles these failing places seeking low rent and Low price buyers. There staff trained to dress black And sell, just sell.  All but a few of the hallway kiosks were gone. The owners Of the ones remaining sitting close to the cash register hoping It would ring. A barber sat in a salon with no heads. The massage Technician long ago giving up on customers slept on ...