david schrott is everywhere

Callie’s first train ride

Posted in philadelphia by thebreakfastdictator on 07/14/2017

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We took the train to Philly back in May. Trains will forever and always be better than cars. I love Kodak Tri-X.

Here are some film photos from the spring of 2016.

Posted in B&W Photography by thebreakfastdictator on 06/24/2017

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McDonald’s Sign, Gone

Posted in B&W Photography, Uncategorized by thebreakfastdictator on 05/23/2016

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When I was first getting interested in photography, my Dad told me that there was this sign on Columbia Avenue at a McDonald’s. It was one of the old school arches. He said I should take a photo of it before it gets taken down (this was the late 90s). I never did until just a few days before it was taken down (around April 5th this year). I’m glad I did. I’ll miss this sign.

Industrial Resolution

Posted in B&W Photography, Lancaster by thebreakfastdictator on 01/07/2014

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Rooster Street Finals

Posted in B&W Photography, Farm Life, Lancaster by thebreakfastdictator on 12/26/2013

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Burning Bridges

Posted in B&W Photography, Lancaster by thebreakfastdictator on 11/26/2013

Columbia, Somewhere; New Year’s Day 2007

There’s this place we love to go to. It’s three full stories of miniature and maxiature treasures. Some from the recent past and others of a time we can’t even conceive of; a time when photographs were printed on metal. In our minds this place only exists in black and white and the days are always foggy. The temperature may be a tick above uncomfortable. The silence here on these grey-grainy days is only half deafening. How can silence be deafening anyways?

2004 was nine years ago. But somehow in the slow-paced glaze of our minds, nine years moves more like nine minutes. Memories are still crisp of long hours of plaster-patching and coffee-getting during the dank winter days, punctuated by five-hundred watt light bulbs and winding trips through the gridded industrial streets. The Dodge was warm and comforting after these slavish days; shoes came off, then socks, and our toes and aching feet massaged themselves into the floorboard carpets. The cold concrete carefully caressed countless aches and pains up our feet and into our legs, backs and shoulders. Few things felt better than reclining in the plush passenger side seat, dreaming of a hot shower and conversing of the day’s events while listening to Bob’s conservative commentary.

Cross North Third street and head toward the river; the deadly river. Stand on the bridge that replaced the one the Yankees burned in 1863. Feel the cool winter air in your lungs? Breathe deeper. Inhale the grey fog. It is intoxicating; the camera and thirty-five millimeter film agree. The gravel crunches under rubber soles and we meander under the great pillars. There is a rumble here and there as the delivery trucks stumble into position. The tracks lie ahead of us and they foretell of a summer two years future, standing on a different bridge spanning the same deadly river. The narrows there is straight and long and the Volkswagen hits one-hundred on it. We park and carry our bag of golf balls (hundreds of yellow driving range balls) and baseball bats. The moon lights the expansive evening and each clang of the metal bat signals another ball entering the steamy summer night and plunking in the river a few hundred feet below. We do this for hours on end. Time is no enemy here and our youthfulness seems eternal.

In the distance there is a bellowing train whistle. We stop our midnight antics to gaze at the mighty muscle of the freight train. It pulls (or pushes?) thousands of feet of cumbersome cars. “How long is this thing?” we wonder. Its length is un-remitting and its destination unknown. Finally, the giant metal snake grinds into the horizon, the whistle fades and we settle back into our batting practice. Though the night feels everlasting, weariness sets in, the Volkswagen carries us home and the summer carries on.

Power Lines and Fog; New Year’s Day 2007

It’s January 1, 2007 and again we are here in this grey and struggling little river town. The fog is thicker than any day of recent memory and the temperature closes in on sixty. Since those grindy grey days of winter past, we have picked up cigarettes and not put them down for any real length of time. Our lungs remind us of this and the fat Camels we had the night before. A small camera sits on the back seat with a lonely roll of film next to it. These are fog photos pre-Instagram; pre-hashtag. The little city is beautiful on this soft day.

We carry our cameras there to write with light. There is no color. And let us tell you, few things are finer.

Rooster Street Provisions (2)

Posted in B&W Photography, Farm Life, Lancaster by thebreakfastdictator on 09/30/2013
Rooster Street Provisions | Lancaster, Pennsylvania

Rooster Street Provisions | Lancaster, Pennsylvania

Tony and Kristina make an excellent pork product. So honored to have shot some recent photos for their business’ self-promo.

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Posted in B&W Photography, Lancaster, Personal Work by thebreakfastdictator on 08/28/2013

Michael.

Elizabeth.

sometimes, it’s more fascinating when the camera doesn’t show you everything.

Posted in B&W Photography, Lancaster, Surrealism by thebreakfastdictator on 08/20/2013
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Biaggo (No Focus)

 

 

film is beautiful

Posted in B&W Photography, Lancaster, Personal Work by thebreakfastdictator on 08/19/2013