Fleeting Frames

Time doesn’t stop—it hesitates.
Fleeting Frames catches those hesitations on 35mm film, where light doesn’t just hit—it lingers. Grain murmurs. Scratches speak. Nothing here is polished, but everything pulses with truth.

These aren’t decisive moments.
They’re the ones just before. A blink half-finished. A shadow not fully committed. Each frame is a question, a breath caught in transit, a memory forming before it knows it’s being made.

Shot in passing, held in permanence.
This is where analog exhales. Where imperfection isn’t flaw but fingerprint. A glance not meant to last, preserved in dust and silver halide.

You won’t find perfection here.
Just honesty—blurred, beautiful, and barely staying still.

An empty wall pulsing with quiet rebellion. The repeated Wu-Tang posters mark presence in absence, claiming space on a structure whose purpose has long since faded.

Wu Signals

Parked but far from idle, this vintage Ford van hums with stories. Shot in front of UNT’s downtown outposts, it’s a portrait of memory, machinery, and small-town muscle.

Red Van Reverie

Cables, boxes, rust—this composition is a tangle of utility and decay. The soft monochrome casts an intimate light on the forgotten mechanics that keep our cities pulsing.

Outcry for Outages

A lone sign juts into a washed-out sky, its script curled like a forgotten invitation. Once the promise of escape, of velvet curtains and silver screens, it now marks the border between memory and architecture.

Hallow Matinee

An old-school wall lamp burns gently against dark bricks, holding its own kind of ceremony at dusk. It’s a simple ode to light, texture, and the timelessness of design.

Glow & Grit

Nature finds its way up and through—thin vines trace utility lines like veins on a brick canvas. A quiet tension between organic reach and industrial permanence.

Climb

A quiet loading zone, flanked by bold reds and blues. This back entrance to Beth Marie’s speaks to the poetry of workday rituals, signage, and the unseen flow of a city behind the scenes.

Backdoor Rhythms

Inside a crowded bookstore, tapes and texts blur the line between analog memory and literary weight. A quiet chaos that invites closer inspection—and maybe a story or two.

Stacks & Stories

The patio waits—empty chairs echo the slow hours between lunch and dinner. Washed in a dusty warmth, this moment captures a lull that feels both nostalgic and ongoing.

Midday Stillness

Shot in grainy black and white, the old Campus Theater sign stands like a sentry of stories. Faded neon and brick lines evoke the golden age of cinema, now paused in time.

Campus Ghosts

Bright and cheeky, this mural is a burst of joy and plant-based pride. Vice Burger’s wall art turns fast food into street art, where even veggies come with attitude.

Life on the Veg

A gate not meant to open, ornamented not for welcome but for forgetting. The lines are deliberate, the flourish empty—an architecture of neglect. Here, beauty rusts in silence.

Etched for No One

A vintage Ford truck glows under spring light, its deep green metal polished to mirror the street behind it. Clean lines, chrome gleam—this is pride in design, preserved.

Tailgate Reflection

A sun-bleached gas canopy towers over cracked pavement and bold mural art—an intersection of abandonment and expression. The slogan says Be Bold, and the scene dares you to see beauty in the forgotten.

The Last Fill-Up

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