Nothing To See Here

It started with the light.

Then came the cart.

I never planned a series on a shopping cart. Alicia Paley and I chatted once about our thing for them, though. And I just kept finding myself stopping almost daily at this mundane scene on my way to the same shopping center I visit on almost a daily basis.

It kept re-appearing: one single shopping cart, alone in the parking lot — in the flat light of a mid-morning or contrast light of a late afternoon, every single time.

Sometimes it was upright under the awning, sometimes it was waiting for me in the full sun— seemingly lonely, but actually quite staunch and secure.

For a while, it was just the cart and me, just casual snaps of its meager surroundings, always in a different position, often in different light according to the weather and time of day.

In the winter time, I began to notice a few days where the cart didn’t show up at all.

I began to miss it!

Then it started to appear again— this time out of place, just around the corner in the back side of the parking.

When spring came, it returned to its same spot.

I began finding it toppled over, or paired up with other carts …from another store that was a good 5-8 minutes by vehicle.

Sometimes it was the same store’s cart, but sometimes, not.

Then I’d find it alone again…

alone and toppled over or misplaced.

This went on for months.

The day I saw it on its side for the third time, I began to understand why I kept photographing it.

I wondered if it was the same cart or several of the same looking carts from the same store. I wondered why the other store’s cart began appearing from miles away. And I wondered who pushed them there.

Then I noticed how every time I went, if I didn’t see an empty cart there, I began searching for it, even if that meant exploring around the parking area.

And sure enough, there it was.

A confession: I have never in my life cared about shopping carts. I’ve also never used my iPhone to take photos. I hated the idea.

Yet, its appearance reminded me of one of my criteria for a good photograph: one that asks more questions than any answers it could suggest.

Who pushed it? What did they fill it with? What were they doing that day? Why is it positioned in this way?

I began noticing what interesting things were left behind close to the cart— remnants of a human’s touch.

Mundane questions to some maybe, but questions that to me, offer a departure that is comforting in that they take me away from a serious life.

In the 100°F/38°C heat, I decided to put a pause on my courtship with the cart. Shooting from behind a dirty windshield in 100°F heat wasn’t doing it justice.

I do think a zine might be in order! It’s a good thing FILM RICK just updated his wonderful online tool.

A small footnote for the curious: the shopping cart was invented in 1937 by Sylvan Goldman, owner of a supermarket chain in Oklahoma, who one night placed a basket on a folding chair and put wheels on the legs. Men initially refused to use them, finding them effeminate. Women refused too because they seemed too much like pushing a baby carriage. Goldman eventually hired models to demonstrate their use in his store. Within years he was a multimillionaire. The humble cart, it seems, has always had to overcome a certain resistance to being seen.

Lastly, I had an essay in progress for this week but when I ended up with 4 drafts and no resolution, I realized that my creative juices have quietly taken themselves on vacation on the early side. Hence, the simpler post.

And as it happens, that is exactly what I’m about to do too: go on holiday.

July / August will bring a lighter publishing schedule than usual. Not lighter content, just longer stretches between posts. I’ll be back in full rhythm come September.

Dear reader, I write these words myself. AI is a tool in my life, not my voice. Always free, no paywalls. If something stays with you, share it. That means everything. Thank you!

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