From the day
Perspective: The Street Photographer · Tactile
The damp wool of my overcoat scratches my neck as I lean against the brickwork, watching the shadows of high-hatted men disappear into that mysterious conference. My fingers itch for the notched rough-hewn pine of the Lincoln Logs in the window display, a tactile contrast to the cold, sliding metal of the modern zippers securing the passersby's heavy gaiters. I spit at the curb, eyeing the pump where they’re asking $0.15 for a gallon of gas just to keep these chugging motor-cars alive. In these dark times, I care for deeds not words, so I focus my lens on the grit of the street and the fraying silk scarves of the worriers.