1900 Was a Bad Year To Be a Baby

Today I drove through Woodland Cemetery, one of the oldest in the city. Lived in Des Moines almost my entire life and I'd never done that before. Driven by it probably hundreds of times. Interesting to see tombstones for people born in the 1800s. Alive during the Civil War. Dead a century before I was even born. These particular rows of stones caught my attention. They were all stones for either infants or still born babies, almost all dated 1900 (a few died in 1899). Dozens of them. Made me wonder what the heck happened in 1900.

PARK

 I’ve always loved the scope of this sign - from the top of the P to the bottom of the K is probably about 3 stories. (I want to take it again at a different time of day to avoid that glare.)

Good Food

This door has fascinated me for a long time… probably because it’s three stories above the ground. Why is there a door that opens out 20 or 30 feet above the alley below?

When I Grow Up

Go ask any kid you know what they want to be when they grow up. You'll get all kinds of answers - a fireman. A dancer. A singer. A football player. A movie star. A scientist. On and on. One answer you aren't likely to get? A team manager in the short sale settlement department of a major mortgage bank. And yet here I am.

Don't get me wrong. The job is fine. (Plus I never really had the legs to be a dancer.) But there's just nothing... creative about it. That's something that's been missing for me for awhile. A creative outlet.

The obvious solution to this: buy a camera. So I did. I'll be posting the results of this experiment. I'm hoping photographing will give me the creative outlet I've been craving. Let me use the other side of my brain. I'm also hoping I won't completely suck at it.