Frank Reid's shop, Eastern Oregon
It was kind of grey and wet day, an odd sort of thing for Eastern Oregon. The deer hunters left the campground before dawn in a cloud of diesel exhaust and high spirits. We left a couple of hours later heading into the Ochoa Forest. We came down a road and saw a grouping of old buildings. They seemed like a good photographic haunt during an autumn rain. Getting out of the truck I went to look at one of the open sided structures filled with tools and equipment. Brooks went to the house to see if we could photograph on the property. He went to knock on the door and I headed for the shop. I spent quite a while photographing in the shop.
After photographing in the shop, I headed back to the house to see what was keeping Brooks from coming outside into the cold and rain and being a “he-man” photographer. Brooks was kind of involved with some photography, but that’s not the whole story. In addition to some photography there was conversation (in the form of, shall we say ribald stories), shared beverages (dare I say alcohol might have been a component) and a friendship made when a couple of guys occupy the same spot for a few hours.
The camera acts as a catalyst not only between the photographer and the subject, but between the photographer and the people he meets when he photographs. Cameras are good for making images and more importantly they allow you to make friends.
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