While doing my laundry at Furnace Creek the day after taking the Dunes shots, I had a dodgy sandwich which knocked me out of action for the whole of the next day. My stomach was making some very disturbing noises, so I ate nothing for 24 hours, took medicine and lay low in my hotel room. It was sad to waste a day where I’d intended to photograph two sites but if you’re ill while travelling, the best thing to do is acknowledge the fact and set about getting well quickly. Hence my day lying on my hotel bed. Better one day out than three because I’d stupidly soldiered on.
As a photographer and a bit of a lover of all things minimal, sand dunes have a special attraction for me. Never mind that walking across sand and up dunes is immensely hard work. I’m talking about the look of the thing.
It’s all reduced to a few simple elements; lines, light and shadow. That’s all you have to play with. No details, no features, no people, no exploding dinosaurs. Nothing of any significant interest except the form of the thing. ‘Make a great picture out of that,’ it challenges.
Well, I was warned it might happen. Come to California, cross paths with a beautiful woman and never go back to England. And indeed, yesterday I met a special kind of lady, the type you can’t help but notice. She’s quiet, a little bigger than I like ’em and perhaps sprouting a little too much body hair for my tastes but when you’re bitten, there’s little you can do about it. Here’s a picture…