Forbidden Pseudo-Symmetry

This connecting courtyard between two Travelers buildings in Hartford has been blocked from foot traffic (I was shooting through a high fence), making it a strange forbidden liminal space. That the two buildings facing each other aren’t actually symmetrical—despite echoing one another—makes it feel like a sort of forbidden zone where reality has faulted somehow.

Forbidden Pseudo-Symmetry

Nanomaterials on the Stir Rod

Photographing progress in the research lab can be so useful for answering that future question: “Did it really look like this last time we ran this experiment?” Our memories are imperfect, but so too is an image of a sample if one adjusts the processing settings to amplify saturation or contrast beyond reality. Sometimes, the goal of capturing something true to life overlaps with capturing something aesthetically pleasing, and then I have to share this image of freshly synthesized nanopowder clinging via static electricity to the end of a glass stirring rod.

Nanomaterials on the Stir Rod

Tall Windows in Snow

While we’re contemplating the architecture of Clement Chemistry Building, I don’t think I’ve previously considered the way in which the dark sculptural stone sections connect together the windows on the second and third floors to make these big, tall, dramatic, dark pillars up each side of the building—almost reminiscence of the tall stained-glass windows of a cathedral.

Tall Windows in Snow

Snowy Clement and Hartford

White covers Trinity’s campus and accents the Neo-Gothic architecture, but the modernist skyline of Hartford in the distance perpetually suggests what else might architecturally be. Though I love twentieth century architecture, there’s little argument that it would have been the wrong choice for a small liberal arts college. It wasn’t until recently that I came to realize that many of these old-looking buildings are less than 100 years old; in essence, they were built to be old-fashioned from the start. Most east-coast schools are a sort of academic Disneyland—one constructed long enough ago that we forgot about the artifice and now see only authenticity.

Snowy Clement and Hartford

Two Doors Sunrise

Beautiful views from our Hartford balcony have been a consistent Decaseconds theme, and during much of the year (i.e., the colder months), those views usually come through these two big panels of glass that comprise our sliding door. Original to the building, they are thin and leaky and corroded and it’s time to move into the future… But the limits of what can fit up the elevator mean that we’ll be swapping to a three-panel set of doors to replace the two-panel set with which we began. I’m not sure I’m even necessarily disappointed, but I knew I’d be remiss if I didn’t capture the view as I’ve come to  recognize it.

Two Doors Sunrise

Pirates of the Salton Sea

The Bombay Beach Ruins now feature this fanciful pirate ship, but at its core is another sculpture with a far different 1950s-automotive-aerial aesthetic. I wonder what inspiration caused the artist to transform one piece into another—or if this was the work of a second artist? I’m reminded of old masters reusing canvases, painting over earlier works to repurpose the raw materials.

Pirates of the Salton Sea

Sunset on 2025

We’ve reached the end of 2025 and I’ll celebrate with what I think is one of my best shots of the year—and also just chronologically one of the last shots of the year. The tiny camper van and far-off lights add a sense of scale, saying “goodbye” to the distant events of that past time. Happy New Year!

Sunset on 2025