Monday, October 12, 2009
Wet pavement, engines' roar, a swath of red and blue ... sling a lens and you'll stumble upon it: a view of the overnight crew. Okay so there's nothing poetic about a midnight collision, but the aftermath does have a lyrical quality all it's own, especially when you approach it with sleep in your eyes. That's how I roll (up): station cap jammed over bedhead, run-bag hanging low, echoes of an unexpected phone call still ringing in my ears. If you've ever scored as backstage pass to a light show such as this , you know how tragic the palette can be. Cory Welch obviously does. Recently, the young Rhode Island freelancer paused to reflect on a beautiful disaster and walked away with an image I'd hang in my upper lair - if only the wife would let me. Where does she think I go when the bedside phone explodes?