What would I do for fun if my closets weren’t connected to a warp in the time-space continuum? If they didn’t continually materialize whatnots and thingamabobs from the 19th and early 20th centuries?
Needing a break from photo-illustrated books, I reached up to the top shelf in the hall closet and pulled out this collection of old photo albums — some empty, some filled with tintypes and card photos of unknown people. This sort of treasure trove can suck me into days of research and days of photography challenges. I know they’ll sell on Ebay, but I always ask myself at this stage whether the payoff will be worth the effort. Then I have to put aside that question and surrender to the process. It’s my job.