CONTEMPORARY EXPLORER

  It’s a modern marvel that Amazon and other packages find their way to our door. Passing through numerous shipping, warehousing, handling and delivery systems. They all gather marks along the way, some intentional and others not. Everything from the smudge from the loading dock to stickers designating a sorting order or contents. Bar codes that keep it on track. There are the hands of the driver and the unseen ones of pilots in flight. They all make for colorful packages at our door each with their own travel tale. None of this would be possible or as low cost without the invent of the shipping container that allowed for the efficient handling of freight. Affording space for thousands of different packages versus the bulk shipping of the past. The container was Invented by Malcom McLean in 1951 rapidly growing to worldwide adoption. McLean only had one truck in his small freight company, but quickly gleaned on to idea of using containers when he started hauling empty tobacco barre...

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