Muffler Morgue

Muffler Morgue

This old muffler storage rack has been behind a muffler shop here since before I came to live in this town.  I know the owner of the shop and his family.  I saw their grandchildren grow up.  If you ever had a busted muffler, it’s probably in this catacomb.  That is, if you’ve lived here long enough to know where to get a muffler replaced.  The owner and his family are fine folks and good friends.  The shop was decrepit when they moved into it, no doubt, and it still is.  The owner is a big bear of a man with the bluest eyes and the fullest beard you ever saw.  He is cantankerous and keeps his own counsel.  He is the man I would call if I needed to move a body.   He made his fortune in this shop.  He was the only friend that my husband rode around with during his terminal illness.  He’s that kind of man.  I am going to print an album of muffler photographs for this man as a token of my gratitude to him.

I spent an hour at this muffler morgue late one afternoon.  I shot over a hundred frames full of mufflers.  As I approached the back side where the oldest and most deteriorated ones rest, the light was gone.  I will have to return to honor the original residents of this place.  I attempted to dress these guys up a little so they would look their best for the viewing.  May they rest in peace for they served us well.

47 Comments on “Muffler Morgue

  1. Pingback: The Little Longhorn Herd « She Kept A Parrot

  2. My goodness this is an amazing post! This should have been freshly pressed. I am going to write to wordpress and let them know that if anything they do is intended to promote fine art, then this should be the kind of post they promote. This is the kind of work I would pay my few pennies to see any day. I love this post

    Like

    • I’m glad you like it, Michael. I suppose it’s a bit unusual to see stacks of old mufflers. They’ve been there forever. I have no idea why George doesn’t send them to the scrap metal yard. He’s more eccentric than I. The b&w post reminded me that I haven’t had the photos printed for him. I hope I can get them back before Christmas. I think he’d like them. You’re kind to say such nice things about the photos. Thank you.

      Like

  3. Great stuff! Well seen and captured. Love the repeated patterns and textures. Just wondering what we would call it on this side of the pond (‘The silence of the silencers’ or ‘Exhausted exhausts’ perhaps).

    Like

  4. Stunning work. Beautifully composed and executed. (The only thing I wondered about was . . . . “if I needed to move a body.”!!!)

    Like

  5. That’s they way to do it George ! These are excellent . Really like to tone on the third one. The last three could be a post unto themselves – great contrast in compositional style. 🙂

    Like

    • No, you wouldn’t. It’s too unusual looking. You’d notice if you drove by there as often as I do. You are way too sensitive to miss something like this. As observant as you are about everything that I can think of! BTW, I absolutely love your new profile photo. Those beautiful eyes do you proud. 🙂

      Like

  6. Okay, that just brought a huge smile to my face! Whether it’s the image of you making your way around all these mufflers or that the mufflers look like they have a life of their own and you joined the party, I don’t know ~ either way, thanks for the smile.

    Like

  7. What a find…I love them. 🙂

    And how nice that this big bear of a man (who would move a body for you) was your husband’s dear friend during his illness. These are more than mufflers…. Thank you, George.

    Like

    • I never thought of it that way, but I suppose you’re right. I drove by these stacks for years and looked at them thinking how different they all were, but how well they fit together. Finally, I stopped to snap them. And, they are inseparable from that big bear of a man. Otherwise, they’d simply be an interesting stack of mufflers. The images work either way, but they mean more to me because of their history. Thanks, Scott.

      Like

  8. This goes to show that there’s an artist in all of us. Whoever stacked those mufflers did it with a great deal of love and a good eye, and you had the talent to recognize it.

    Elisa

    Like

    • Your thought reminds me of Viktor Frankl’s analysis of what makes us human and how we survive in “Man’s Search For Meaning”. Those among us who survive indescribably horrible circumstances do so not because they are more robust, but because they have complex and rich experiences and ideas to draw on inside their heads. I think that is true. We make our own worlds, don’t we.

      Like

  9. Ahhhh, these are absolutely fantastic. I’m in LOVE with these photographs! The rust and decay are delicious. The angles and perspectives you’ve chosen draw us in to what feels like another world. Wonderful shapes, lines, colors, tones textures… It’s ALL there, so marvelously composed. Beautiful work, George.

    Like

    • Lemony, I am floored by your appraisal. I liked them, but you know how I operate on instinct. No specific plan. I frame the way I like to see. I just really did like these mufflers and the stacks of them. I’ve looked at them for years as I drive past them. They all look so different, yet they fit together so well. I think there is a metaphor for humanity here. At least, that’s what they mean to me. I am so happy that you like them! 🙂

      Like

  10. Very cool shots, George. I especially like the ones mufflers end-on from a distance. Lovely dancing abstracts that remind me of a mass of amoebae, some getting ready to split.

    Like

    • Thanks, S.E. Those amoebic shapes only appeared after I applied a special effects to the photo. I left them there and thought of them as ghosts of mufflers past. There is stuff in the bokeh of our photographs that we can’t see with our limited vision. It always interests me to see what pops out of the background when we don’t expect it.

      Like

    • “Luminous gems”. You are one of the most articulate people I know, Mollusk Girl. Thank you. I drive by these stacks frequently. I always intended to stop so I did one day after the shop closed. If you look at them in real life, they are not ugly. Really, they aren’t. There are so many different kinds together there. The images form a kind of metaphor for me.

      Like

  11. You brought them to life in this post George!
    This is actually one of my favorites from you; love the colors, the tones, the angles, the compositions, Everything!
    Even the background in the last one is so cool!!!

    Like

    • Thank you, Pablo. I didn’t know how anybody else would see these old, rusty mufflers. Their shapes fascinate me. When I saw the “ghost smoke” in the last one, I smiled. I call it “The ghosts of mufflers past”. It only appeared after I started applying effects. There are light shapes in the background of photographs that we don’t see. There are little Gremlins hiding there. 😉 That always makes me wonder about dimensions that are not visible to us, but that surround us all the time. How inadequate our eyes are! I’m glad you like them. You made my day.

      Like

  12. But now you made them all alive… 🙂 You are amazing dear George, wonderful photographs… suddenly their life changed… 🙂 Thank you, with my love, nia

    Like

  13. Only you can make such “junk” look so beautiful…
    He will love the album.
    If I ever need someone to help hide a body – I’ll contact you to contact him for me – LOL
    JUST KIDDING!

    Like

    • I dunno’, Rosy, he’s a strange character. I think you could win him over, though, with that face! 🙂
      Thanks for liking my mufflers. I like them too. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.

      Like

  14. An unusual portrait – and I liked it! What you have shown is that something as old and rusted as mufflers can be photographed in a beautiful way.

    Like

    • Thank you, Colline. I see these stacks every time I drive by the muffler shop. I have intended to stop and photograph them for years. I finally made it over there recently after the shop was closed for the day. I want to give the photographs to the man who owns the shop.

      Like

  15. That first frame immediately reminded me of that sweet film, ‘WALL-E’. And you, my dear, are hereby crowned the Midas of muffler photographers.

    Like

    • WALL-E, yes, me too. You have me grinning, Lance. Midas, indeed! I am happy to have found an artistic endeavor in which I have virtually no competition for the crown. 🙂

      Like

    • Thank you, SwordChin. I’m smiling because I like the pseudonym so much. Who could forget SwordChin? You are something else, Mensa Girl. 😉

      Like

    • I discovered early on that the objects we use in our everyday lives could be beautiful if we looked at them. It all goes back to Fibonacci principles, of course. We just have to look. 🙂 Thank you for your kindness. I was blown away by your lights on the water. Pure poured gold.

      Like

      • Yes, poured gold is a pretty good description:). George, I sagree there’s beauty in everyday objects and that they can be made to look beautiful,. Of Fibonacci and his principles, I’m ignorant, sad to say. But you sure succeeded in illustrating the point with those mufflers – particularly the very rusted out one, I thought it was tremendous!

        Like

        • Thanks, Gene. Look up Fibonacci’s Golden Numbers, Golden Spiral, Golden Mean. Fascinating stuff for an artist, like you, especially. 🙂

          Like

    • Mine too. These mufflers are made of heavier metal than most of them. They must have been from heavy trucks. I have no idea, but I liked them. They are iron or some alloy that pits deeply.

      Like

    • “Chin-wag”. I never heard that description, but its meaning is clear What an apt way to describe it. I’m going to remember that one. Once in a great while, I hear some simple descriptive phrase that just works. This is one of the best ones I ever heard. Where did it originate, do you suppose? I love it! Thanks.

      Like

Comments

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: