Gean Shanks

In the recording studio with a punk band in Phoenix. Or Gilbert. Some where in south central Arizona. It’s all the same, really.

Ode to being camerless:

Shirtless man throwing knife into palm tree on 5th Ave.
A man on a bike towing a shopping cart one-handed through a busy intersection
A woman using a pay phone on a corner
Two chickens and rooster in the alley between a bar and art joint
A small performance by the Strange Family Circus (with fire!)
A young girl in a silver disco-esque sweat suit with her blonde hair just as bright as the sequins
Another little girl with a stuffed dog larger than the strange real dog she was inspecting

When I decided to go directly from work to Phoenix for First Friday and some punk-related activities, I knew that what I would miss more than some changes of clothes, basic toiletries and usual suitcase essentials was my camera. Halfway through the weekend, I picked up a disposable camera (which I recently developed). I got to snap some shots around town with a Kodak disposable camera — while the company is rumored to be going under, most places don’t even carry disposables any more, and the radio was conveniently playing Paul Simon’s ‘Kodachrome’.