It looks like I am seeing red. But it’s not just the color that brings these images together, nearly rhyming, but not quite. There are signs to welcome, signs to warn (no soliciting), signs to direct (enter). There are invitations to walk through the door, sit on the deck, and climb the stairs. The scenes are cold and yet still warm, pockets of light both inside and out. None of this occurs to me as I am taking these pictures . . .
I wonder if this is the real magic of photography. There is something about the practice that is soothing to the most rudimentary and essential parts of our brains. Maybe photography helps us to get out of our own way, releasing us from the cage of self-sabotage.