I had made prints made of a couple of these images, and showed them to some of my family. An aunt (the same one who seems to feel it necessary to point out my height each time I see her) asked me "Why did you take pictures of these things?"
She wasn't being snarky or unpleasant. It seemed like she really wanted to know. I think I mumbled something about the texture, or maybe the shadows.
I looked at them again today and repeated the question to myself. Why did I shoot this underpass?
I shot it for the reason I probably shoot anything. I saw something beautiful there. Maybe it's the texture, or the light and the shadows and the depths. The clean and the tarnished. Maybe something else entirely. It's simply that I looked at it and saw something compelling, that I thought I might be able to capture and bring back with me.
All Phoctober posts from this site.
Jefferson Davis on dogs and other things.
Taffiny and the mist.
Scarlett on April in Paris.
Kyklops seeks change.
It isn't too late to join the fun. Just do a photo post, mention Phoctober, and come and tell me about it in the comments.