This past week, I had a big birthday. One of those ones that ends in a zero. I celebrated with a whole bunch of great friends, and it was exactly what I wanted.

It’s been a month of travel, meals, sharing, and creating. And I have a feeling this is going to be a great year. There’s so much ahead. The studio is getting closer. Ideas are growing by the day. I have notes upon notes upon notes. Some of you know about my Post-it note obsession. Write it all down so you don’t lose a thought. That’s my theory anyway.

And somehow, August is already complete.

This month I was supposed to be thinking about color. I looked at orange. I looked at yellow. I looked at the gorgeous adobe tones of Santa Fe, the greens, the flowers, all of it.

But I ended up with blue.

Was it a cheat?

Or was it just the truth?

The Color of August | My August Was Filled With Blue

So why blue?

Well, I was looking at those gorgeous adobe tones. I was looking at greens and all the colors of August flowers. Can you guys believe I’m talking about flowers? But anyways...

The one thing that really held my month together was a toy camera I bought called Camp Snap. I mentioned it in an earlier newsletter. It’s a basic little point-and-shoot digital camera. No screen on the back. Nothing fancy. And it has been a blast.

It has six different modes for different looks, including three vintage looks, black and white, analog, and standard. I’ve just been snapping up a storm.

There’s something freeing about this camera. And as always, I just wanted to see what I could do with it.

You saw a few photographs a couple of weeks ago when I was sorting through some of the imagery. As I kept shooting, I realized my August wasn’t really about one color. It was about the colors of Santa Fe in August.

So I decided blue was my color.

Why?

Because my camera is blue.

Was that cheating? Maybe. But it was also the truth of how I experienced the month. Blue was the little thing in my pocket that kept me looking.

If you want to pick one up, I’ve got a link for you and you’ll get a little discount. Full disclosure, if you get a discount, I get a discount too, which is awesome. Apparently I’m now in that world where I have to figure out how to make a few pennies to support my photography habit and feed Etta the pup.

But seriously, this little camera has been a lot of fun.

I even bought one for a friend, and I’m hoping she sends me some photographs soon so I can see what she’s been creating with it.

Some of you know how much I love toy cameras. Holgas, all-plastic cameras, plastic lenses. I’ve shot them for years. I tried the digital Holga and never really loved it. I had the first version of the Camp Snap and didn’t love that one either.

This version is different.

It’s small enough to fit in my pocket. It turns on quickly. It’s fairly responsive. And it’s fun. Mine happens to be blue, but there are all kinds of colors, violet, grape, orange, yellow, white, black. You can go a little crazy.

And they’re inexpensive enough that you can play. That’s important.

You’re the artist, so whatever camera you use, you still want your voice to come through. I’m always a believer that you don’t need the biggest, best camera. I shoot with my iPhone a ton. I love my Sonys. I love my Fuji. I love them all. Put a camera in my hand and I’m going to make an image with it.

So, my color for August was blue. Maybe I cheated a little because my camera was blue, but I’m going with it.

What was your color? Did you participate in this month’s challenge? If you did, share a few images. I want to see what you came up with.

And if you didn’t, that’s okay, because we’re going to start talking about a new challenge next week.

Hmmmmmm... what will it be?

Shop Camp Snap

Looking at Art | A Birthday Week in Santa Fe

Having been my birthday week, I had some friends in town, so we went all over Santa Fe. We looked at tons of art. We went to the Vladem Contemporary, the New Mexico Museum of Art, Obscura Gallery, and a few other places along the way.

Scheinbaum & Russek Ltd. opened their gallery for an invitation-only talk for Girls Inc. members and select guests. Andra Russek and David Scheinbaum shared their knowledge and love of Laura Gilpin’s work. What a great opportunity to hear more about a photographer I knew of, but really didn’t know that much about.

Laura Gilpin (1891–1979) was a photographer who spent a lot of time in Santa Fe and New Mexico, but her story is way bigger than that. As we learned, Gilpin studied photography in New York during the time of Pictorialism. Think of those early 20th-century soft-focus photographs that are more about mood and feeling and make your imagination grow as you look deeper into the frame.

Her early pictorialist images were made using an 8x10 view camera, and she contact printed her negatives as platinum prints.

Gilpin also photographed traditional Navajo life. Over time, she became part of the community and was welcomed into a world where she could focus her lens on the people around her. The portraits are compassionate and give us this incredible look into another time and place.

We learned so much from this exhibition and talk. And really, what I’m telling you here is just a small introduction to a career that spanned 60 years.

There is talk of an exhibition of Gilpin’s work at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art in 2027. I’m keeping my eye on this one. Maybe I’ll see you there.

Scheinbaum & Russek Ltd.
photographydealers.com

The event was also connected with Girls Inc. of Santa Fe. If you would like to support them, I’ve included a donation link here.

Girls Inc. of Santa Fe | Donation

And Then There Was a Lost Cat

Along the way, we found some public art.

This flyer was stapled to different telephone poles around the Railyard district of Santa Fe.

LOST CAT.

There’s a phone number on it.

Why don’t you take a moment and call the number?

We did.

Turns out it has something to do with an upcoming exhibition at the Vladem Contemporary. We didn’t know that when we saw the flyer. We didn’t even know it when we walked into the Vladem. We didn’t figure it out until we called the number.

That made the whole thing way more interesting.

I’m not going to tell you much more because you should call the number yourself.

If you’re in Santa Fe, keep your eyes open for the flyers and check out the exhibition when it opens.

And let me know what happens when you call.

So much happened this week. It was a blast.

I had a big party, and 40 of my friends showed up. My fabulous friend Barbara hosted the evening, and we had a lemon poppy seed cake from Chocolate Maven that you just can’t go wrong with.

What a week. Art, creating, and good friends.

Perfection!!!

Keep snapping!

Interpretive Eye | Weekly Edition

Where the Line Falls

Española, New Mexico | 2016

I’ve driven by Saints and Sinners so many times. I’ve photographed it, wondered about it, but I’ve never walked through the door.
There’s so much going on here. That great sign, the arrow behind it pointing to nothing, the grids covering the windows and door. Even the stains on the sidewalk make me wonder who was parked there and what was going on.
The sign says come in. Everything else feels a little more like keep out.
Saint or sinner. Welcome or Keep Out. Where does that line fall?
I’m not sure.
But I still want to go inside.

Shop Weekly Edition

Until next week, keep looking.

If you’ve enjoyed this week’s edition, the best way to support this project is to share it with a friend, subscribe, or welcome one of the photographs into your home.

Last week I got to go to Cabot, Vermont, land of some fantastic cheese and a great studio, Prints on Paper Studio.

I was there for a workshop on photopolymer photogravure, something I had never done before. I had seen photogravure prints and knew a little about them, but I didn’t really understand the process. And I did absolutely no research before I went.

Poorly prepared? Maybe.

But it didn’t matter.

This was a workshop from the ground up, and sometimes I think there is something really good about walking into a process without knowing too much.

What I did do before I left was spend a few hours deciding what photographs I wanted to work with. I didn’t want to waste workshop time scrolling through images and trying to figure out what to print.

I went back into my Las Vegas archive and pulled photographs from 2011 through 2013. I ended up with two groups: signs and pools.

At the time, I thought they were two completely separate bodies of work.

Turns out, maybe they’re not.

I brought more photographs than I could possibly use, which ended up being a great decision. As I started learning the process, I could look at the images differently and begin thinking about which ones might translate well into photogravure.

Starting From the Ground Up

There were five of us in the workshop and two instructors, Walker Blackwell and Nathanael Kooperkamp.

Walker and Nathanael started Prints on Paper Studio about two years ago, and what they’re building there is pretty incredible. They print for artists and photographers, make photopolymer photogravure plates, teach workshops, and, maybe most importantly, encourage experimentation.

This is not traditional copper-plate photogravure. It’s a contemporary approach to the process using photopolymer plates.

The basic idea goes something like this:

The image is printed onto a light-sensitive photopolymer plate using an Epson printer. The plate is exposed to UV light, which hardens the areas that will become the printing surface. The unexposed material is washed away, creating tiny recessed areas that hold ink, much like an intaglio plate.

For our workshop, we shared our files with Walker and he prepared the plates. We didn’t have a hands-on experience with that part of the process. Our focus was learning what happens once that plate is ready to print.

And that is where things got really interesting.

Ink. Wipe. Print.

Ink goes onto the plate and gets worked down into all those tiny recessed areas.

Then you start taking it back off.

And yes, wear the rubber gloves.

You wipe the plate with a cheesecloth-like material, slowly removing the excess ink while leaving ink down inside the image.

There is a real feel to this.

Too much ink left behind and things can get muddy. Too much removed and you lose something else. Every print teaches you a little more.

Then it’s time for the press.

Clean hands.

Damp paper.

Plate.

Press.

Align the plate. Lay the paper over it. Run everything through.

And then you get to pull the paper away from the plate.

That moment never got old.

The detail is amazing.

Apparently, Walker Was Right

My first print was a little dark.

Walker said it was dark.

I looked at it and thought, No it’s not. It looks great.

Well...

I had absolutely no experience yet.

Once we refined the exposure and I saw the next plate printed, I understood exactly what he was talking about.

By the end of the workshop, when that first print was sitting next to the other twelve, it was obvious.

Walker was 100% right.

That was one of the things I appreciated most about the week. Walker and Nathanael have an incredible depth of knowledge, but they don’t beat you over the head with it. Their attention to the process kept us from wasting time, energy and materials while still giving each of us room to find our own way.

And everyone did.

Five Artists. Five Directions.

My direction was pretty traditional.

I wanted to understand the process. I wanted to understand the ink, the plate, the paper and the press. I wanted some control over the materials before I started pushing them around.

Ann, on the other hand, jumped right into experimentation.

Multicolor prints. Duotones. Chine-collé. Multiple plates on a single sheet of paper. Reds. Yellows. Layers.

She was playing.

And wow, was I inspired by her approach.

I already know that when I go back to Prints on Paper Studio, that’s the direction I’m heading.

Color. Layers. Play.

Stefan is building a photogravure studio and business in Germany. He came to Vermont to dig deeper into the details and refinements of the process. Walker and Nathanael have been helping him build his studio long distance, so this was finally an opportunity for them to work together in person.

Their generosity with their knowledge was pretty amazing to watch. Stefan was also incredibly generous with me throughout the week, sharing pointers and things he had already learned along the way. He’s going to be a great teacher.

John, a retired doctor who is now working on his MFA, brought these beautiful, moody images. He moved between traditional printing and experimentation, working with Chine-collé, duotones and other approaches.

And then there was Mary, who has this great archive of photographs. Each day she seemed to pull from a different body of work: the West, the Beach Club, portraits of famous tennis players. She started more traditionally, working through the inks and eventually finding this beautiful warm tone that really resonated with her imagery.

We were all learning the same process.

But nobody was making the same work.

I loved that.

Twelve Images

The first day I had three plates.

The second day, four more.

Then four more.

And on the last day, I did two additional plates.

Thirteen images altogether.

Twelve really held up.

I also took the time to make an edition of three prints from each plate, which means I came home with a substantial little body of work.

Well, technically I didn’t come home with the work.

It’s being shipped.


If photogravure has ever interested you, I can’t recommend Prints on Paper Studio enough. This was easily the best workshop I’ve taken in 20 years.

Walker and Nathanael are calm, patient, incredibly knowledgeable, generous with what they know, and genuinely excited about experimentation.

That’s a pretty fantastic combination.

So now I want to know:

Can you see yourself taking a photogravure workshop?

And maybe the bigger question:

What’s something you don’t know how to do yet that you’d be willing to go try?

Follow the Workshop

Want to see more from the studio and the artists I spent the week with? Here’s where to find everyone.

Prints on Paper Studio
Instagram: @printsonpaper_studio
https://www.instagram.com/printsonpaper_studio/

Walker Blackwell
Instagram: @walkerblackwell.tiff
https://www.instagram.com/walkerblackwell.tiff/

Nathanael Kooperkamp
Instagram: @n._kooperkamp
https://www.instagram.com/n._kooperkamp/

Ann Weathersby
Instagram: @annweathersby
https://www.instagram.com/annweathersby/

Mary Schilpp
Instagram: @maryschilpp
https://www.instagram.com/maryschilpp/

Stefan | Photogravure Studio
Instagram: @photogravure.studio
https://www.instagram.com/photogravure.studio/

Website:
https://photogravure.studio/

John Voss
Instagram: @voss_j
https://www.instagram.com/voss_j/

Heather Protz
Instagram: @heatherprotz
https://www.instagram.com/heatherprotz/

And One More Artist to Discover...

On our last day, the intern at Prints on Paper Studio came in to join the fun. Her name is Natalie Ivis.

Great energy, big smile, talented artist and photographer. As we got to know Natalie, I learned that not only is she interning at the studio, she is also a professor at Massachusetts College of Art and Design.

So, a professor interning to learn a new process so she can take that knowledge back to her students.

All the things I love about the world we live in. We are always learning, and then we get to share what we learn.

Go check out Natalie’s work.

Instagram: @natylonglegs
https://www.instagram.com/natylonglegs/

Website:
https://www.natalieivis.com/

One last set of snaps from one of my evenings out exploring.

Interpretive Eye | Weekly Edition

Held Here

Las Vegas, Nevada | 2011

When I moved to Las Vegas, I started spending a lot of time photographing downtown and the surrounding areas. I walked. I drove. I looked. And one of the things I started noticing were bail bond businesses. They seemed to be everywhere.

I don’t remember noticing them growing up in Ohio, so I was fascinated. Turns out they were there too. Then I started seeing them in New Mexico, Florida, everywhere I explored. I started photographing the exteriors and just kept going. I have years of these images now. I haven’t really done anything with them yet, but I know there is something there.

With this photograph, what gets me is everything happening between me and that orange wall. The fences keep stacking up, one after another. Then there is this old-school black-and-white prisoner painted on the wall, popping out against all that orange. Add the blue sky and that strip of blue along the bottom and somehow everything just works.

The fence keeps me out, but it also makes the photograph.

Shop Weekly Edition

Until next week, keep looking.

If you’ve enjoyed this week’s edition, the best way to support this project is to share it with a friend, subscribe, or welcome one of the photographs into your home.

This Monday morning, I happen to be thinking about the emotion of color.

Color can mean so many things to different people and different cultures. It can represent a feeling, an event or even a time in our lives. Think about white at weddings, red for energy (or ketchup), pink for love, and yellow for sunlight, energy or luck.

These are some things you might want to think about as you continue exploring The Color of August.

Try doing a deep dive into your color. How is it used today, and how was it used in the past? What does it mean where you live or in the places where you travel? What different associations does it carry?

You may have already thought about some of this in a roundabout way. But now that you’re into the project, what happens when you really dig in and do a little research?

Research can be very valuable to a photo project. It gives you more things to play with and more places to jump in, places you may not have considered before.

By now, you probably have two, three or four photographs you really like. Put them together and take a look. Are the colors similar? Is it the exact same orange or yellow repeating across the images? Or are the variations wide, moving from pale and quiet to bright and vibrant?

What do those differences mean? How could you pace them as an emotion?

What will jump out at the viewer first? Will they see the color or the meaning? Will they gradually notice the color repeating, or will it slap them in the face?

Are you going for something calming? Is August a calming month for you?

It never really was for me because I was always getting ready for school. The minute August 1 hit, I was pulling out my materials and preparing for classes, which were going to begin before I knew it.

But this year is different. I get to experience August in a whole new way.

Here in Santa Fe, I keep noticing the greens. They are such beautiful, vibrant greens. Then there’s peridot green, my birthstone, which is a color I have absolutely never liked, even as a child. It has too much yellow in it. I think I prefer my greens with a little more blue.

So I keep talking myself through these different hues, their variations and what they mean to me.

As you can see, I’m still bouncing all over the place. What is my color?

I really want to do something with orange. Orange is my ultimate favorite color. As I write this, I’m looking at my orange LaCie drive, my orange Sony speaker and an orange bag in the corner holding cables. But I’m not sure any of that makes for an interesting photograph.

So I’m still looking and planning.

Late this afternoon, I’m going to head out as the sun is setting and watch those oranges come alive on the adobe and along the sides of the buildings. Remember, I love architecture. I’m planning to head toward the museum in town and see what I find.

You may see an image from that walk very soon.

That’s my Monday morning thought.

Something to Explore This Week

So this week, take the three or four photographs you’ve made so far and put them together. Printing them out can be helpful. Make a few 4 × 6 prints and leave them somewhere you can look at them for days without having to put them away. Find a place where you can walk past them, see them and absorb what’s happening.

You don’t need to have a series yet. You’re just looking to see what your beginnings are.

Once you have them together, look at the shades of your color. Is it the same color over and over again? Is it changing? Is it soft in one picture and screaming in another? How does the color feel now that you’ve been working with it? Has your idea already begun to shift from where you started?

This is also a good time to loop back to what I was talking about earlier and dig into your color a little deeper. See what it means in other parts of the world. Talk to your friends and see what that color means to them. Look at different cultures, different periods of time and events in history.

You may find something that sends you in a different direction or helps you dig deeper into where you’re already headed. It’s all good.

The whole idea is to keep growing, keep looking and keep making pictures. Live with them for a while and let the work grow from where you are.

Interpretive Eye | Weekly Edition

Completely Now

Santa Fe, New Mexico | 2022

Every summer the hollyhocks show up all over Santa Fe. I love them. The colors, the crazy height of them, the way they seem to grow wherever they want.

There is one little house I walk by where they completely take over the garden. Hundreds of them. I look forward to seeing them every year, and of course, I photograph them every year.

But this morning was different.

I was walking by and this one flower was just glowing. That pink. The morning light. All those buds getting ready to open. I had probably walked past this same spot a hundred times, but on this particular morning everything came together.

So I stopped.

That’s really what photography is for me. You keep looking. You walk the same streets, see the same places, and then something happens that you haven’t seen before.

Those flowers are gone now. That morning is gone too. But I have this.

For one little moment, there was nothing before it and nothing after it.

Completely Now.

Shop Weekly Edition

Until next week, keep looking.

If you’ve enjoyed this week’s edition, the best way to support this project is to share it with a friend, subscribe, or welcome one of the photographs into your home.

I brought a few ideas with me, and I can’t wait to see where they lead. I’ll be sharing the process and what I make along the way.

Have any of you explored photogravure? I’d love to hear about your experience. Drop a thought or an image in the chat or comments.

Here is a link if you would like to learn more.

Photogravure Process

In Case You Missed It | The Color of August

A Short Five-Point Guide to the Photo Project

1. Pick a color.
What color feels like August to you? I keep coming back to sun orange, but maybe yours is peridot green, pool blue, warm gold—or something completely different. There is no wrong answer here. Just pick a color and see where it takes you.

Maybe My Color Is Yellow

This is one of the images I’ve been working on this summer for Reverb with Reverie. It hasn’t actually made it into the series yet. I made it just a couple of days ago, and I thought I’d share it with you here.

The series is ongoing and ever-changing. That’s part of what I love about it. I’m still figuring out where it wants to go.

Don’t be afraid to explore and play.

Intentional Camera Movement (ICM) and long exposures let us see the world a little differently. They can take something familiar and shift it just enough that we have to look again. Color moves. Shapes stretch. Details disappear. Something ordinary becomes something else.

For me, that’s where it gets interesting. The photograph doesn’t have to explain everything. It can leave some room for the viewer’s imagination to take over.

And apparently, lately, mine keeps coming back to yellow.

2. Start looking for it.
You might find your color while walking the dog, going to the grocery store or sitting in your own backyard. You can also be more deliberate and set up a still life inside or outdoors. It’s really up to you.

3. Don’t worry about having the whole idea figured out.
Just start making pictures. The concept will develop as you work. Maybe your color starts out being about summer heat and becomes something about memory, change or the end of the season. Follow it and see what happens.

4. Use whatever camera you want.
Your phone, a Polaroid, DSLR, film camera, pinhole, scanner—or some combination of them. Maybe you photograph the same place with a different camera each time. Play around. This is a good excuse to use a tool or process you’ve been wanting to explore.

5. Put together five to eight images.
By the end of August, choose five to eight pictures that speak to one another and show us where your idea went. You can include captions, notes, a poem or even a fictional story if you want. Or use no words at all.

There really are no rules here. Pick a color, start looking and have fun making something.

For fun explore the Shutterstock Color Palette Generator

Color Palette Generator

Join The Interpretive Eye subscriber chat

A private space for us to converse and connect

Join Today The Interpretive Eye | Things subscriber chat.

This is a conversation space exclusively for subscribers—kind of like a group chat or live hangout. I’ll post questions and updates that come my way, and you can jump into the discussion.

Join chat

Artists to Discover | Gary Reese

Gary Reese was one of the first people I met when I moved to Las Vegas 22 and a half years ago. He and his wife, Susanne, were welcoming, fun, and quickly became two of my favorite people. Over the years, Gary has been someone I’ve collaborated with, learned from, and been inspired by. He gets me thinking and looking at things in ways I might not otherwise.

Years ago, I took Gary’s class, Photographing the Cultural Heritage of the West. That class became part of the inspiration for my own Las Vegas Document class, which I taught for many years.

During those years, I watched Gary begin working with some of the ideas behind the project he is exhibiting today. He was finding and studying historic photographs of Southern Nevada and re-photographing those same locations, looking at what had changed, what remained, and what time had done to the landscape.

I have to wonder if any of those early images I remember him working on made it into this exhibition. I’ll have to ask him.

Right now, Gary’s exhibition, Stories of Southern Nevada, is on view at Henderson City Hall. The exhibition pairs some of the oldest photographs made throughout the region with contemporary photographs of those same locations. It’s a chance to look at Southern Nevada then and now, and to think about how much a place can change while still carrying pieces of its past.

Stories of Southern Nevada is free and open to the public on the first floor of Henderson City Hall during normal business hours through September 10.

So, all of you who are still in Las Vegas, go explore. Take a look. Report back. And if you happen to see Gary, say hi for me.

Gary has a great eye and an enthusiasm for photography, history, and place that is contagious. And Gary and Susanne remain two of my favorite people.

Go take a look.

Fox 5 Interview with Gary

NevadaWildArt.com

Interpretive Eye | Weekly Edition

The Mirage Remains

Las Vegas, Nevada | 2013

Some photographs happen once.

I made this image just off Las Vegas Boulevard in 2013. At that moment, the dark panels of a small hotel caught the afternoon light perfectly, reflecting the palm trees and sky while the pool below seemed to hold another version of the same scene. It was iconic Vegas, and still is. A little bit of magic caught at just the right moment.

There is another layer to this image now. The Mirage Hotel, an icon of the Las Vegas Strip for 34 years, closed in 2024. This photograph was never about that Mirage, yet more than a decade later, the name feels strangely connected.

Places change. Light disappears. Las Vegas reinvents itself.

The Mirage Remains.

New This Week

For the first time, The Mirage Remains is available in two print options: the classic black framed edition or a dye-sublimation metal print, ready to hang without a frame.

Two different ways to live with the image. Be sure to check them both out.

Shop Weekly Edition

Until next week, keep looking.

If you’ve enjoyed this week’s edition, the best way to support this project is to share it with a friend, subscribe, or welcome one of the photographs into your home.

The first five newsletters offered an introduction to what we’re doing here, and this fun is still very much in the discovery, exploration stage.

This week, I’m introducing something new: a month-long project, if you’d like to join in.

Last month, I talked a lot about zines because July was Zine Month. Remember that for next year! I’ll probably remind you. Hopefully, you’ll still be here with me.

For August, I thought we could turn our attention to a curious exploration of color by getting out into the world and making photographs. Your first challenge is to choose your color of August.

Below, you’ll find a project that you can embrace in whatever way works for you. Take what you want from it, make it your own, and enjoy the process.

Let me know if you’re participating. Reach out anytime. I’ll always answer questions and help where I can. I’m looking forward to seeing your projects at the end of the month, but you certainly don’t have to wait until then. Drop a photograph or two into the chat as you go so we can see what you’re discovering.

The more we share, the more inspired we’ll all become. An active chat can give everyone fresh ideas, encouragement, and new ways of seeing.

Happy snapping, and start making.

The Interpretive Eye | Stories, Curiosity & Looking
Photo Project: The Color of August

What color does August represent to you?

Perhaps it is sun orange, warm gold, or the green of summer grass. Maybe it is burnt orange—the first hint of autumn approaching. In Santa Fe, that color will begin appearing soon, while August in Las Vegas may tell an entirely different story.

Peridot, August’s birthstone, offers another possibility: a bright, yellow-green that might lead you toward gardens, weeds, reflected light, glass, fabric, food, or unexpected details encountered during the day.

You do not have to choose any of these colors. August may mean something completely different to you.

The Project

Choose a color—or allow a color to choose you—and use it as the starting point for exploring August.

By the end of the month, create a series of five to eight images that expresses your idea. Your photographs might explore the color itself, its symbolism, a memory, a mood, or the way August feels where you live.

The concept does not need to be fully formed before you begin. Start looking and making. Let the project develop as the images accumulate.

You might find your subjects along your daily journey, or you might work more deliberately by constructing a still life indoors or outside. You could photograph the same scene throughout the month using a different camera each time. You might walk the same path every week and record what changes—or what remains the same.

There are no rules beyond creating, exploring, and enjoying the process.

Ways Into the Project

• Burnt Orange: A sequence of sunsets that gradually leads toward fall

• Front Porches: Terracotta flowerpots, woven welcome mats, and fading plastic lawn chairs

• Alleys: Rusted iron, weathered fences, and weeds breaking through gray pavement

• Heat Haze: Air rippling above asphalt, rooftops, or dry fields

• Dappled Shadows: Harsh sunlight filtering through dense summer trees

• Parched Earth: Cracked mud, dry soil, and landscapes waiting for rain

• Midday Lull: Empty streets and quiet spaces during the hottest hours

• Heat Droop: Wilted leaves and flower heads bowing in the afternoon sun

• First Discard: A single premature dead leaf resting among summer green

• Sunflower Yellow: Sweet corn at a market, sunflowers, straw, or signs of harvest

• Popsicle Orange: A bright trace of color against a silent afternoon street

• Copper Glow: Smoke rising from a grill or fire pit in the evening light

• Peridot Green: New growth, translucent objects, reflected light, or stubborn weeds

These are only prompts. Follow whatever catches your eye.

Images and Words

Your final series may stand entirely on its own. No written explanation is required.

If words are part of your vision, you may add:

• A title for the series

• Captions or brief observations

• Notes about color, place, memory, or process

• A poem or short reflection

• A fictional story inspired by the photographs

Use as much or as little text as the work needs.

Choose Your Tools

Use any image-making tool you want to explore:

• A phone

• A Polaroid or instant camera

• A DSLR or mirrorless camera

• A film camera

• A medium- or large-format camera

• A pinhole camera

• A scanner

• A combination of cameras and processes

The tool is part of the exploration—not a limitation.

Optional Tips for Rich Summer Color

• Try Daylight/Sunny or Shade white balance to preserve the warmth of golden-hour light.

• Experiment with slight underexposure, around –0.3 to –0.7 EV, to deepen saturated colors.

• If you photograph in JPEG, try a Vivid color profile and decide whether it suits the mood of your series.

• A circular polarizing filter can reduce reflections, cut through haze, and deepen blue skies.

These are suggestions, not requirements. Ignore them whenever a different choice serves the image.

The Invitation

Begin with a color. Pay attention to where it appears, what surrounds it, and what it begins to mean.

Make photographs. Follow surprises. Change direction if the work asks you to. Be deliberate or spontaneous—or move between the two.

Create five to eight images by the end of August that belong together and reveal your interpretation of the month.

Most importantly: play, explore, and have fun making the work.

Artists to Discover | Adam Bernard

Color always makes me think of my friend Adam Bernard. He works so beautifully with color and light, choosing just the right time of day to let the colors shine. They can be bold or subtle, but they always draw you in.

Late afternoon, early morning, and heck, maybe even that midday sun can work a little magic for you.

Be sure to explore Adam’s work on his website.

The Ranger

Interpretive Eye | Weekly Edition

Keeping Tomorrow

Santa Fe, New Mexico | 2022

Every season leaves something behind.

At first glance, this sunflower appears to be reaching the end of its story. The bright petals have curled inward, the golden glow has softened into amber, and summer’s exuberance has given way to quiet reflection.

But this isn’t an ending.

Hidden within the weathered bloom are hundreds of seeds, each one carrying the promise of another season. What appears to be fading is, in fact, preparing. The flower gives way so that something new can begin.

Made in Santa Fe during the first days of August. August 5, 2022, to be exact. I remember thinking summer still felt endless, yet something had already begun to change.

This moment exists between seasons. The future is already hidden in what we think we’re leaving behind.

Tomorrow is often taking shape long before we recognize it.

Shop Weekly Edition

Join The Interpretive Eye subscriber chat

A private space for us to converse and connect

Join Today The Interpretive Eye | Things subscriber chat.

This is a conversation space exclusively for subscribers—kind of like a group chat or live hangout. I’ll post questions and updates that come my way, and you can jump into the discussion.

Join chat

We’re still in zine month, so naturally, I’m still making zines. Really, though, I make zines all year round.

This week’s video is a flip-through of four very different books—from a one-page mini zine made on an ordinary laser printer to a limited-edition photo book produced by Blurb. Together, they show just how many forms a zine can take.

Camp Snap Mini Zine

The first zine features photographs made with my new Camp Snap camera. It’s essentially a digital toy camera: no screen, very few distractions, and six built-in filter modes. I’m still discovering what it can do, and I’ll share a more in-depth look at the camera sometime soon.

For this first experiment, I used the one-page mini-zine template I shared a few weeks ago. Instead of running the photographs edge to edge, I left white space around them. I like how the borders make each image feel framed and intentional.

The entire zine was printed on a single sheet of copy paper using my laser printer, a fast, simple, and inexpensive way to make something tangible.

Open 24 Hours

The second zine is the one I gave away when Interpretive Eye reached 50 subscribers.

I made it from 4 × 6-inch color machine prints joined with artist tape to create an accordion fold. For the spine, I sliced another photograph into a narrow strip, folded it around the pages, and taped everything together.

That’s it: photographs, tape, and a little experimentation.

Reverb with Reverie

The third book comes from my Reverb with Reverie series, which you can find on my website.

This one is a hybrid. It’s stitched together like a handmade book but incorporates a variation on the one-page mini-zine structure. Rather than folding the sheet down into eight small panels, I folded it only in half, allowing for four larger images. A full-size image - almost like a small poster - is stitched into the center.

Altogether, the book contains thirteen photographs. I printed it on my Epson SureColor P900 using Moab Entrada Bright 190 paper, and the images look absolutely beautiful.

The Passenger

The final book is The Passenger, which I’ll give away when the newsletter reaches 100 subscribers.

The photographs were made during a single night while I was riding in the back of a friend’s convertible and exploring my long-exposure concepts. I paired the images with a small amount of text and shared the project on Instagram. My friend Mike described it as “a great narrative,” and something immediately clicked: this needed to become a book.

I initially imagined it as a handmade object, but the story called for a format I could reproduce consistently. It became an 8 × 10-inch Blurb book and will be released as a limited edition of 50 copies.

Available Zines

Interested in purchasing a zine? Message me with the title you’d like—or let me know if you’d like the complete set—and I’ll send you a payment link.

Printing and mailing are included in the listed prices.

• Camp Snap Mini Zine — $5

• Open 24 Hours — $25

• Reverb with Reverie — $25

• The Passenger — $45

The complete set of four is $100.

Four books, four structures, and four very different approaches to turning photographs into something you can hold.

Be sure to share the zines you’ve been working on in our chat.

Join The Interpretive Eye subscriber chat

A private space for us to converse and connect

Join Today The Interpretive Eye | Things subscriber chat.

This is a conversation space exclusively for subscribers—kind of like a group chat or live hangout. I’ll post questions and updates that come my way, and you can jump into the discussion.

Join chat

WOW

Over the years, I’ve collected a lot of stories.

Some are about photographs. Some are about travel. Some are about people who changed the way I think. This is the first in what I hope becomes a regular feature called WOW.

Years ago, I was teaching an advanced digital photography course (Big Digital). We spent the semester developing a single body of work. Students came in with their own ideas, refined them through critique, and produced exhibition-quality large format prints. Along the way, there were test prints, sharpening experiments, paper choices, color management, and all the technical details that help bring a photograph to life.

But the real work was never about the printer. It was about the idea.

One semester, a nontraditional student named Sara A. Smith came to me with her project proposal.

“I want to make photographs that make people say wow.”

I remember thinking, That’s an awfully high bar.

One wow photograph? Sure.

Ten? Over the course of a semester?

That seemed almost impossible.

Sarah loved the outdoors. She was a landscape and wildlife photographer with an incredible work ethic. She believed in the project completely, and every week she came back with another image that pushed closer to her goal.

By the end of the semester, she had done exactly what she set out to do.

Ten photographs that made you stop.

Ten photographs that made you say, “Wow.”

That project has stayed with me for years, not only because of the photographs, but because of Sara’s commitment. She reminded me that ambitious goals aren’t always unrealistic. Sometimes they simply require someone willing to chase them with enough persistence and belief.

I’m excited to share one of Sara’s photographs here. Some of you may remember her. She was a wonderful person, an animal lover, and a remarkable photographer.

Her work, and that lesson, have stayed with me ever since.

Sara A. Smith - Fly Geyser, Nevada

I don’t remember exactly when Sara made this photograph. What I do know is that it has lived in my classroom for at least 12 to 15 years. I looked at it weekly. It became part of the room, part of my teaching, and part of the way I think about photography.

Every time I saw it, I thought about Sara and her commitment to making something that lived up to her idea of “wow.”

I’ve retired from teaching this year, and the photograph is still hanging in that classroom. I’ll visit it again in September.

Some photographs become more than prints on a wall. They become reminders of the people who made them and the lessons they leave behind.

A Quick Studio Update

I’m on it. I’m looking, and I have my eye on a few places. Now I’m just trying to determine whether any of them is the right fit.

More information to come.

Interpretive Eye | Weekly Edition

A Place to Drift

Santa Fe, New Mexico | 2022

It’s the middle of summer, and here in Santa Fe, the days are warm. While exploring the archive for this week’s submission, I came across this photograph and was immediately transported somewhere else. The turquoise blue reminded me of a swimming pool—the feeling of jumping in, floating weightlessly, and escaping the heat.

Of course, it isn’t a pool at all.

I made this photograph at a friend’s home in Santa Fe in 2022. Standing over the record player, I watched this translucent blue disc spin and made a series of images. This one became my favorite. There’s something about the motion, color, and blur that feels suspended between sound and water. It makes me want to put on a little Beach Boys or yacht rock, kick back, and cruise through the rest of summer at 33 revolutions per minute.

I called it A Place to Drift because that’s where the image takes me—into the blue, carried along by music, motion, and the promise of cool water.

Where does it take you? Where would this piece live in your life?

Shop Weekly Edition

A Quick Wrap-Up

This week’s newsletter feels like a collection of the things that propel me forward: making books, chasing ideas, remembering the people who shaped how I see, searching for a new studio, and occasionally allowing myself to drift.

Maybe that’s the thread running through all of it. We make something, follow where it leads, and remain open to being surprised.

Keep making, and don’t be afraid to pursue your own version of “wow.”

-hp

Until next week, keep looking.

If you’ve enjoyed this week’s edition, the best way to support this project is to share it with a friend—or welcome one of the photographs into your home.

Last week flew by.

Did you make a zine? Did you share it in the chat? I hope so.

I finished a new one this week, and it’s heading to Terry, one of the winners from our first 50-subscriber drawing. Since she already owned my Open 24 Hours zine, I wanted to make something different.

The layout was inspired by something I saw on Instagram. It’s built from two sheets of 8.5 × 11-inch paper. One sheet is cut in half and folded into an eight-page booklet. The second sheet is folded in a way that creates additional spreads, and when everything is sewn together, it unfolds to reveal one large photograph hidden inside.

It was a fun little puzzle to build.

I posted a video in the chat: showing the sewing process and flipping through the finished zine. If you’d like to try making one yourself, let me know. I’m happy to share the template.

On to the Studio

I thought I’d give you a little studio update.

The truth is… I don’t really have a studio right now.

I’m working from a small space that’s perfect for editing photographs, designing books, and making zines. It isn’t ideal for building larger pieces or framing work, but limitations have a way of focusing your attention. Right now, that attention is going into making new books and planning what’s next.

In this image, you’ll see artwork by Enid Williams, Diane Bush, and Boris Bally. I’m fortunate to live with pieces by each of these inspiring artists. Daily reminders to keep looking closely, keep making, and keep surrounding yourself with work that inspires you. And Etta, the studio dog, she prefers to be known as the sofa dog.

One thing that’s made this little home studio work even better is a set of A400 Round Base Monopods that I’m using for lights and cameras.

They’ve been even better than I expected. The round bases take up very little visual space, blend seamlessly into the room, and—best of all—there are no tripod legs to trip over.

For this studio, they’re plenty sturdy for my lights and camera setup, and they’ve made working in a small space much more comfortable. Sometimes it’s the simple pieces of gear that make the biggest difference.

IFootage

The studio search continues.

I’m looking for a studio in Santa Fe where I can spread out, build larger projects, bring in a large-format printer, and start hosting events again.

If you’re in Santa Fe and know of a space—or know someone who might—I’d love to hear from you.

Sometimes the next chapter begins with a simple introduction.

What’s your creative space like? A dedicated studio, a corner of the house, or the kitchen table? I’d love to see it. Drop a snap in the Chat.

Everyday Seeing | The work between the work.

Getting out and making photographs every day is an important part of my creative practice. Below are a few images from a recent morning walk with Etta, the Art Dog. These walks are where I slow down, pay attention, and often discover the small moments that find their way into larger projects.

Each week ends with a single photograph—one moment that stood out from the many. Here's this week's

Interpretive Eye | Weekly Edition

Winter Tangle

Santa Fe, New Mexico | 2022

Created in Santa Fe in the winter of 2022, Winter Tangle began as a black-and-white image before evolving into a composite of warm earth, weathered turquoise, deep silhouettes, and ghostlike shadows.

The tangled branches reflect the contradictions of winter in the high desert. It is a season of stillness, yet we continue to move through the landscape, searching for snow, water, and signs of what will grow again. The image holds that tension between nature and human presence, dormancy and renewal, uncertainty and hope.

I invite you to spend some time with Winter Tangle, this week’s image from The Interpretive Eye. Look into its layers, follow the branches, and discover where your own eye takes you.

Until next week, keep looking.

If you’ve enjoyed this week’s edition, the best way to support this project is to share it with a friend—or welcome one of the photographs into your home.

We’re in the middle of Zine Month, and I’ve decided to jump in and make a new zine before the month is over.

If you’re wondering what a zine is, you’re not alone.

A zine is a small, self-published publication. It can be as simple as a single sheet of paper folded into a tiny booklet or as polished as a professionally printed magazine, print-on-demand (POD) publication, or book. They all count. The point isn’t the format. It’s making something and sharing it.

One of my favorite ways to introduce people to zines is with a single 8.5 × 11-inch sheet of paper folded into an eight-page mini zine. It’s inexpensive, approachable, and a perfect way to turn an idea into something you can hold in your hands. Print it on ordinary copy paper, fold it up, and you’ve made a book.

To help you get started, I’ve included a mini zine template along with a few examples of zines I’ve collected or made over the years.

I hope this becomes the first of many creative challenges here in Interpretive Eye | Things. Small invitations to be curious, make something, and see where it leads.

Download the Mini Zine Template →

Zine Template

Watch the How To Video →

This Week’s Challenge

The 24-Hour Zine Challenge

Create a zine in the next 24 hours.

Or, if you’d rather take a little more time…

The Seven-Day Zine Challenge

Spend the next week creating a zine from start to finish.

When you’re done, share your experience in the chat. Did you finish it in a day or spread it out over the week? Did you carefully plan every page, or did you jump in and discover the zine as you went?

There isn’t a right way to make a zine. Every approach teaches you something.

The only rule is to make one.

If you’re comfortable, post a photo of your finished zine too. I’d love to see what everyone creates.

🎉 Community Update
We did it! We reached 50 subscribers.

And the winners are…
Terry, from Las Vegas, Nevada and Jane, from Akron, Ohio
I’ll be mailing your zines shortly.

This is the zine I will be sharing

Before we wrap up, here’s this week’s
Interpretive Eye | Weekly Edition

Convergence

Santa Fe, New Mexico | 2022

Some departures feel louder than arrivals.

The train was leaving Santa Fe as evening settled over the Railyard. Three lights pierced the growing darkness while the rails stretched toward me, appearing to merge into a single line before disappearing into the distance. Off to the right, the water tower stood quietly over the yard. A few people lingered on the platform, but for a city so often filled with festivals, music, galleries, coffee, and conversation, the moment felt unexpectedly still.

That quiet is what drew me in.

Perspective has a way of changing what we believe we see. The tracks appear to unite as they leave Santa Fe, even though they will eventually carry travelers in many different directions. It reminded me that places do the same thing. Every walk, every gallery, every cup of coffee, every cocktail, every conversation, every unexpected discovery gradually gathers into something singular.

A place becomes more than its streets.

It becomes a feeling we carry with us long after we’ve left.

Convergence reflects that moment when separate experiences become one lasting memory. The train moves on, but Santa Fe remains, collecting everything that came before into a single place we carry with us.

Shop Weekly Edition

Until Next Week

Thanks for following along this week. I hope you’ll find a little time to make a zine and join the challenge.

Congratulations again to the winners of the zine drawing! I can’t wait to get your zines in the mail.

If you’ve enjoyed this edition of Interpretive Eye | Things, I’d really appreciate it if you shared it with a friend or on social media. Every new subscriber helps grow this community and keeps the conversation moving forward.

You can also follow along on Instagram @heatherprotz for photographs, works in progress, and everyday discoveries.

Until next week, keep making images, keep sharing the art you’re living with, and above all, keep looking.

See you next week.

-hp

This is a conversation space exclusively for subscribers—kind of like a group chat or live hangout. I’ll post questions and updates that come my way, and you can jump into the discussion.

Join chat

How to get started

1. Get the Substack app by clicking this link or the button below. New chat threads won’t be sent sent via email, so turn on push notifications so you don’t miss conversation as it happens. You can also access chat on the web.

Get app

2. Open the app and tap the Chat icon. It looks like two bubbles in the bottom bar, and you’ll see a row for my chat inside.

3. That’s it! Jump into my thread to say hi, and if you have any issues, check out Substack’s FAQ.

It still feels a little strange to say that out loud.

Last week I shared the big news. This week has been less about celebrating and more about moving… boxes, artwork, sculptures, furniture, and just about everything else that comes with building a new chapter.

Some of you know I hauled a truckload of work to Santa Fe over spring break, including several large sculptures that had been tucked away during the transition from my Paradise Palms house. They’re finally back where I can see them every day, scattered around the yard, and it honestly makes the place feel like home again.

Artist Kim Eggleston-Kraus of @tindercraft_ceramics created these sculptures in the 1990s. They’ve traveled with me from Ohio to Nevada and now to New Mexico.

Living with art has a way of collapsing time. Every piece carries the memories of where it has been, the people connected to it, and the moments we’ve shared along the way. Kim’s work has become a meaningful part of my everyday life.

At the same time, I’ve been renovating my basement into artwork storage.

The contractor promised a five-day project.

It took three weeks.

There were enough no-shows to test anyone’s patience, and all of it was happening while I was getting ready to host a Fourth of July party for about seventy people.

They finished two days before everyone arrived.

Somehow everything came together.

The party was fantastic, friends filled the house, and now the basement is about ninety percent ready. I still have a few humidity issues to solve before artwork starts moving in, but once that’s finished I’ll finally be able to bring my collection home from storage.

I can’t wait.

There’s something comforting about having the work under the same roof again instead of tucked away behind the door of a storage unit.

Of course, I wasn’t only moving boxes.

Somewhere in the middle of all of that chaos, I finished a new artist book.

It’s called The Passenger.

For years I’ve been exploring motion as a way of photographing place. This book follows a nighttime drive through Santa Fe from the back seat of a convertible. The photographs blur memory, movement, light, and place into something that feels less like documentation and more like remembering.

I’ll share more of it with you next week.

There’s a story behind the book, too. Actually, behind two friends who unknowingly inspired it. That’s one I’m looking forward to telling.

The newsletter itself was another project that finally made it into the world. I originally hoped to launch in the middle of June, but looking back, July 1 couldn’t have been more fitting.

It was my first official day of retirement.

Sometimes timing works itself out better than we planned.

So what’s next?

I’m settling into a new rhythm of making artwork, organizing the studio side of life, and beginning the search for a permanent studio here in Santa Fe.

If you’re local and happen to know of a space for rent, let me know. I’m looking for a place where new projects can grow. Maybe it’s for a year. Maybe it’s longer. We’ll see where the road leads.

I’m excited for what’s ahead.

Thanks for coming along for the ride.

Interpretive Eye | Weekly Edition

Sixteen Private Cats

Cerrillos, New Mexico | 2025

Some photographs ask to be looked at. Others ask you to slow down.

This one rewards curiosity.

A painted cat. A fading face. Music Is Good. A weathered wall, an old dresser, shifting light, and a doorway that leads as much into imagination as it does into a place.

I’ve returned to this spot several times over the years. Each visit reveals something new while something else quietly disappears. That’s one of the reasons I keep photographing. Places don’t stand still.

The title, Sixteen Private Cats, came from imagining what might be waiting just beyond the opening. I never saw sixteen cats, but I can’t help believing they might be there.

Photographs don’t always provide answers. Sometimes they simply invite us to look a little longer and let our own stories begin.

What story reveals itself to you?

If this photograph continues to linger in your imagination, perhaps it’s meant to become part of your everyday surroundings. I love the idea that a photograph can reveal something new each time you pass by it.

Interpretive Eye | Weekly Edition features one photograph each week for one week only at a special collector price. Each print is professionally framed, ready to hang, and measures 24.5 × 30.5 inches.

Explore this week’s edition and see additional views of the framed piece here:

https://heatherprotz.darkroom.com/products/1889979

A Quick Thank You

We did it!

Interpretive Eye | Things has reached 50 subscribers, which means it’s time for the zine drawing.

I’ll be selecting the winners on Thursday. If you’re one of the two winners, I’ll email you directly to collect your mailing address so I can send your zine.

Watching this community begin to grow has been one of the highlights of launching this newsletter. Thank you for reading, for encouraging the work, and for being part of these early chapters.

See you next week.

Until next week, keep looking.

If you’ve enjoyed this week’s edition, the best way to support this project is to share it with a friend—or bring one of the photographs into your home.

So anytime we start something new, there’s this energy that comes with it. Excitement. Possibility. A head full of ideas and a feeling that there are a hundred directions to go.

That’s exactly where I am right now.

First off, hi. I’m Heather Protz. Artist. Photographer. Educator. Daily habit junkie. Coffee and cocktail enthusiast. Add a little bacon somewhere on either side of the day and we’re probably headed in the right direction.

I’m also a dog and animal lover. Etta, my Husky-Cattle Dog mix, keeps life interesting, and Blu, my honorary half-dog Mini Aussie, occasionally joins the cast too. I have a feeling they’ll find their way into these pages more than once.

And welcome to this new adventure.

This newsletter isn’t going to be just photography. It isn’t going to be just habits, productivity, or creativity either. This newsletter is about things.

It’s going to be a little of everything that fills my days.

How I’m creating. What I’m noticing. The ideas, people, books, routines, places, and moments that stop me in my tracks. Ways to stay motivated. Ways to keep moving. Maybe a cocktail recommendation. A funny dog story. A wow moment.

Actually, I’ve got a wow story from years ago that I’ll share down the road.

I’ve got a lot of stories.

And over the course of this newsletter, I’ll be sharing them with you.

So if you’re here, I’m glad you found your way in. I hope something in these pages sparks an idea, gets you curious, inspires you to create, or simply gives you something worth carrying into your day.

Now for one of the bigger updates.

I did it.

I retired.

After 22 and a half years at the College of Southern Nevada, I officially stepped away.

Twenty-two and a half fantastic years.

Teaching, students, conversations, projects, growth, and moments I’ll carry with me forever.

But life occasionally hands us these pivot points.

Those moments where you can feel something shifting.

And sometimes you know that if you don’t take the next step now, you might not.

So I took it.

Is there such a thing as being too old to start something new?

I have a feeling we’ll be talking about that in future newsletters.

Because retirement, for me, isn’t about slowing down.

It’s about making room.

Room for projects. Workshops. Art. Exploration. Curiosity. Travel. New ideas.

And all of that lives under a name that has followed me for years.

Interpretive Eye.

That idea actually started during my last sabbatical, when I became fascinated with habits, productivity, creativity, and ways to improve not only my own workflow, but also help students move forward in theirs.

The name stayed with me.

And now it feels like the right foundation for what comes next.

Because ultimately this is about paying attention.

What I’m looking at.

What I’m seeing.

How I’m seeing.

And maybe helping all of us notice a little more along the way.

_________________________________________________________________________

This Week

Interpretive Eye | Weekly Edition

Weathered Oath
Las Vegas, Nevada | 2018

_________________________________________________________________________

Each week I’ll include a photograph from the Interpretive Eye | Weekly Edition.

These photographs come from years of wandering, noticing, and paying attention. Some are recent. Others have waited quietly in the archive for years before finding their moment.

Weathered Oath was made in Las Vegas in 2018. The worn eagle, layers of peeling paint, and years of exposure immediately caught my attention. The object feels both fragile and resilient. Time has done its work, yet the image still holds its ground.

As we approach the 250th anniversary of our country, I find myself returning to photographs that speak to endurance, memory, and the things we continue to hold onto.

This image seemed like the right place to begin.

Weathered Oath is available this week only through Sunday at 11:59 PM.

Shop Weekly Edition

Welcome to Interpretive Eye | Things | 001.

I’m glad you’re here.

-hp

____________________________________________________________________________

Subscribe now