A photographic field-book of automobiles encountered on curbs, in lots, and in the slow light of ordinary afternoons. No concours lawns, no rotating plinths — only the cars as they are found.
There is a quiet discipline in the old habit of stopping — really stopping — in front of whatever happens to be at the kerb. Most automotive photography is staged: the angled three-quarter, the polished paint, the empty road at dawn. This is not that.
These frames were taken in passing. A Fiat outside a grocer. A Citroën under a streetlamp. A Porsche with a week's worth of pollen. Cars are more interesting, I think, when no one is trying to sell them to you.