When I got rid of the old phone after mumbles quietly seven years or so, one of the last things I did before I erased it was save the few photos I’d taken on there. They weren’t, by any stretch of the imagination, anything special in terms of photographic beauty or the like, but the few — literally, just three — that weren’t of Gus and Ernie are all particular moments that I wanted to record for no particular reason.
This was taken shortly after moving to Portland, if I’m remembering correctly. It was a cold winter night, and I was struck by the way the light outside the local Fred Meyer looked; it felt so different from San Francisco, where I’d spent the last few years, and looked so different from what had been my everyday that I wanted to keep it.
I’m not sure why I love this as much as I do; I think it’s the weird pixelation effect as much as the sunset. It wasn’t a particularly good day when I took this, but I loved how orange the world turned, and the fuzziness of the final image feels particularly appropriate.
There’s a corner in the neighborhood which always has weird, enjoyable, graffiti; I saw this one day and it felt particularly appropriate for the time, and this was… 2018, maybe? Long before the hellscape that we’re currently living in.