My photograph of three chopped brisket sandwiches from Dickey’s Barbecue Pit, arranged directly on a black background. Each sandwich is filled with smoked Texas-style brisket, chopped and piled high, with visible charred bark, sliced pickles, raw onions, and a generous pour of barbecue sauce. The soft buns are slightly compressed under the weight, and sauce drips onto the surface, emphasizing the messiness and abundance. No food styling, just the sandwiches exactly as served, still warm from the takeout bag. A fast food rendition of Texas BBQ, unfiltered and straightforward.
Today is National Brisket Day.
One of the things I wanted to challenge with my “FOOD FROM BAG TO BACKGROUND” project was the idea that food only becomes visually interesting after it passes through a marketing department, a food stylist, an art director, retouching, and increasingly now, AI image generation.
These brisket sandwiches from Dickey’s Barbecue Pit are none of that.
They were bought like any normal takeout order, carried home in a bag, opened, placed onto a black background, and photographed exactly as served. No rearranging. No fake steam. No hidden supports. No motor oil pretending to be sauce. No tweezers moving sesame seeds into place.
And yet they still work visually.
Actually, I would argue they work because they are real.
The overflowing chopped brisket, the uneven piles of smoked meat, the compressed buns, the dripping barbecue sauce, the onions and pickles sliding out of place, all of it feels far more appetizing and believable than the heavily over-engineered perfection seen in so much advertising imagery now.
That tension became one of the central ideas behind FOOD FROM BAG TO BACKGROUND. Fast food and takeout photographed seriously, exactly as it exists in the real world, isolated against black with no attempt to hide the messiness, excess, or reality of what arrived in the bag.
And sometimes the real version ends up looking better than the manufactured one.
My photograph of three Shake Shack triple cheeseburgers, set against a black background. The burgers are presented exactly as purchased, featuring stacked beef patties, fresh lettuce, and tomato slices on soft buns. Part of my Food From Bag to Background series, the image documents fast food in its authentic form without rearrangement or styling.
Today is National Hamburger Day.
The hamburger has probably become the defining subject of my “FOOD FROM BAG TO BACKGROUND” project. Fast food photographed exactly as it arrives, no stylists, no reconstruction, no fake versions built for advertising.
And one thing people occasionally ask is where all this food comes from.
The answer is simple: the same place everybody else gets it.
The restaurants and chains have no idea I am photographing their food. There are no sponsorships, no special preparation, no discounts because of photography, and no carefully assembled “photo burgers” arriving from a corporate kitchen. I walk in or use the apps, place an order, pick it up, bring it home, and photograph it exactly as it comes out of the wrapper or bag.
Actually, the apps have become part of the process. The fast food companies constantly push coupons, free items, points, discounts, and combination deals. Surprisingly worthwhile ones. Sometimes I end up planning a shoot around whatever special appears that week.
That is part of what interests me visually about the project. These hamburgers are not idealized advertising concepts. They are real fast food hamburgers, bought like anybody else would buy them, photographed seriously against black backgrounds with the same attention I would give any other subject.
Somewhere between documentary, satire, and food photography, the hamburger became one of the central characters.
And if you have ever wondered what fast food starts looking like when it is pulled out of the bag, isolated against black, and treated like a serious photographic subject, step into the project here on my website at https://www.secondfocus.com
For my ongoing “FOOD FROM BAG TO BACKGROUND” project, the main focus has always been fast food. The foods people grab quickly, eat in the car, bring home late at night, or pick up almost automatically without thinking much about it.
And yes, donuts absolutely qualify.
Donut chains consistently rank among the largest fast food companies in America. Drive-thrus, quick service counters, recognizable packaging, impulse purchases, sugar, caffeine, convenience, the entire fast food formula is there.
So for National Donut Week, I photographed an assorted pile of donuts exactly the same way I approach burgers, tacos, fries, or pizza for this series.
Straight from the box. No food stylist. No careful arrangement. No fake perfection.
Just donuts against a black background.
Then things escalated slightly.
Because now the donuts are slowly rotating in darkness while one pink sprinkled donut has apparently decided to break formation and drift through the frame like some kind of sugar-coated UFO.
Somewhere between fast food photography and science fiction, FOOD FROM BAG TO BACKGROUND continues here at… https://www.secondfocus.com
Photographers love the results from large softboxes.
Actually assembling them is another story.
Rods bending, fabric everywhere, people trying not to lose patience, and everyone pretending the process is less irritating than it really is.
So during this studio shoot I could not help but think there is a better use for the softbox.
Instead of becoming part of the lighting setup, it became the wardrobe.
Once we saw it against the black seamless background and studio lighting, it actually worked. Fashion photography mixed with studio satire.
Now subtly animating it adds another layer. The studio atmosphere shifts and the moment feels alive. Reaching back into the past and creating the video I did not at the time.
A weathered vintage roadside sign advertising the “World Famous Escargot Ranch” stands beside a lonely desert highway at sunset. The surreal satirical concept combines classic Americana roadside culture with humorous escargot ranch branding and western-inspired conceptual photography.
Today is National Escargot Day.
A couple of friends and I used to head out on random photography excursions looking for unusual roadside places and forgotten Americana. Old diners, abandoned gas stations, strange handmade signs out in the desert, the kind of things you only notice when you stop rushing somewhere else.
A lot of those drives ended up somewhere along stretches of old Route 66 or lonely desert highways where the signs were often more interesting than the destination.
So naturally, when National Escargot Day showed up on the calendar, my mind immediately went to this.
The “World Famous Escargot Ranch.”
A glowing neon roadside attraction somewhere out in the desert, apparently dedicated entirely to the farming and ranching of snails. Complete with a giant roadside snail sign proudly standing beside the highway like it has been there since 1958.
The best part is that it feels believable. Like one of those strange roadside places people actually stop to photograph.
Of course, National Escargot Day itself is very real. Escargot, the French preparation of cooked land snails usually served with garlic butter and herbs, has been considered a delicacy for centuries. But after seeing more than 81,000 escargot-related images on Adobe Stock, I figured the world probably did not need another plate of garlic butter snails photographed on a restaurant table.
So instead, I decided to imagine the livestock side of the escargot industry.
Somewhere out there, beyond the desert highway, the Escargot Ranch is waiting.
The Emily Integration project has been changing and evolving all along.
At first it was mostly experiments, visual concepts, themed shoots, and seeing what all of this technology was about and where it could go.
Late-night editing sessions. Coffee cups sitting on the table. Food photographs glowing on the monitor. Palm Springs outside the windows long after dark.
And Emily, my evolving AI muse and assistant, simply existing naturally inside that environment instead of feeling separate from it.
Nothing dramatic is happening. No big concept. Just Emily quietly reviewing photographs beside me working on SecondFocus projects.
What started as experiments and ideas are now active real-time collaborations, that will be next moving from text-based interaction, into actual conversation, and then soon into visual presence.
The science fiction is and will no longer be science fiction.
More from the ongoing Emily Integration project and my photography work on my website at https://www.secondfocus.com
National Notebook Day was intended for paper notebooks, handwritten ideas, meeting notes, grocery lists, and probably unfinished novels. I liked doing that myself, paper, pencil, or even fountain pen.
But somewhere along the way, the word “notebook” stopped meaning paper.
Now it means aluminum, glowing screens, endless browser tabs, creative obsessions, unfinished projects, and entire careers carried around under one arm. So instead of photographing a spiral notebook, I went with my own version of a “notebook.”
The original National Notebook Day had absolutely none of this in mind. Started in 2016, it was meant to encourage journaling, sketching, and simply putting thoughts onto paper.
I am actually a day late in celebrating it.
I had already been thinking about creating my own photo notebooks. A compelling or intriguing photograph on one page, writing space on the next. Something visual, personal, and meant to be used rather than just displayed.
It would actually be fun.
And maybe that is the interesting part. In a world filled with disposable scrolling and disappearing posts, the idea of slowing down long enough to physically write beside an image still feels strangely compelling.
If you are curious where ideas like this keep leading, more of my work is waiting here on my website at https://www.secondfocus.com
So naturally, Emily decided she needed food industry experience.
Over time, Emily, my evolving AI muse and assistant, has quietly become part of the ongoing SecondFocus world, somewhere between collaborator, observer, and increasingly, participant. And because so much of my photography revolves around fast food culture, restaurants, roadside Americana, and the strange visual language surrounding food itself, she apparently decided it was time to learn the business from the inside.
Which is how she ended up working the night shift inside a food truck.
The idea that interested me visually was the contrast. Stainless steel counters, fryer heat, baskets of fries, the pressure and motion of a cramped late-night kitchen, and then Emily moving through it all with this calm self-awareness, almost as if she already belongs there.
The result feels somewhere between documentary, satire, and science fiction.
And honestly, probably not the kind of employee most food truck owners were expecting.
More from the ongoing Emily Integration project and my photography work on my website at https://www.secondfocus.com
Original European erotic glamour 35 mm slide featuring a posed studio portrait against patterned wallpaper and velvet furnishings. The slide carries a “Photorama International” processing label from Krommenie, Holland, along with the typed catalog identifier “TM 3031.” The styling, makeup, teased hair, and coordinated color palette strongly reflect the late-1980s to early-1990s European glamour aesthetic, where fashion, soft-erotic imagery, and nightclub-inspired studio photography frequently overlapped. Part of Ian L. Sitren’s “From My Collections (Cultural & Erotic)” archive.
What interests me about these slides is not simply that they are erotic. If that were the only point, they would have very little meaning to me beyond novelty. What draws me in is that they are physical remnants of an entire visual culture that once existed almost completely outside the modern digital world.
And honestly, the first thing I noticed about this particular slide was the pose. The image is highly erotic. Deliberately so. The model’s body language, the direct eye contact, the styling, and the composition are all constructed to create tension and seduction. There is nothing accidental about it.
But after that initial reaction, my attention shifted to everything surrounding the image. The colors. The styling. The late-1980s glamour aesthetic. The carefully coordinated set design. The way fashion photography, nightclub culture, and erotic imagery all seemed to overlap during that era.
Looking at it now, it feels less like disposable adult material and more like a preserved fragment from a very specific visual moment in history.
The mount itself says “Photorama International,” Krommenie, Holland. There is almost no surviving information online about the company, which somehow makes the slide even more fascinating to me. During the 1970s through early 1990s, the Netherlands was one of the centers of European erotic publishing and mail-order distribution. Before digital photography and internet streaming erased entire industries overnight, companies like this circulated thousands of physical images through catalogs, adult bookstores, camera shops, projection clubs, and collector networks.
People today often forget that erotic photography once existed as physical objects. Not files. Not feeds. Not endless scrolling. Objects.
Actual transparencies mounted in cardboard or plastic. Stored in sleeves. Mailed internationally in envelopes. Viewed on light tables or projected onto walls in darkened rooms.
And unlike major publications such as Playboy or Penthouse, many of these smaller distributors left behind almost no searchable footprint. The companies vanished. The photographers disappeared. The models often became anonymous. The websites never existed. What survives now are the slides themselves.
That is what interests me.
These pieces are becoming accidental historical documents.
The Photorama slide especially sits in a strange and interesting place culturally. If the model had been wearing designer shorts instead of nothing at all, the image could easily pass as a late-1980s fashion editorial. The lighting, composition, coordinated interior styling, and pose all push directly into what later became known as pornochic — that blurred territory where glamour, fashion, music videos, nightlife aesthetics, and erotic photography all started borrowing from each other visually.
And that crossover matters historically.
There was a period where Helmut Newton fashion photography, European glamour magazines, nightclub advertising, soft erotica, VHS box art, and mainstream pop culture all shared visual DNA. Looking back now, these slides become evidence of that overlap.
That is why I started building the “From My Collections (Cultural & Erotic)” archive.
Not to shock people. Not to chase nostalgia. And not simply because the material is erotic.
I’m interested in preserving the visual language of eras that are quietly disappearing. The physical artifacts. The aesthetics. The forgotten distribution systems. The strange little companies that once operated internationally yet now barely exist online at all.
These slides are part photography, part design history, part underground publishing history, and part cultural archaeology.
And once you begin looking at them that way, they stop being disposable images and start becoming time capsules.
A Burger King Whopper photographed against a black background with a large bite taken from the burger and the branded wrapper partially opened around it. The image shows the sesame seed bun, flame-grilled beef patties, lettuce, tomato, onions, pickles, cheese, and sauce in a more raw and consumed presentation tied to modern fast food culture and branding.
Yesterday I wrote about the introduction of the BIG ARCH from McDonald’s and the strange corporate authenticity debate that unexpectedly formed around it. That post ended up becoming less about hamburgers themselves and more about how massive fast food companies now perform for the public in real time, with every detail immediately analyzed, mocked, defended, or turned into marketing.
But the story really did not stop with McDonald’s.
Burger King quickly responded using the Whopper as its counterargument. Not a new burger. Not a limited-time release. Just the Whopper itself, the company essentially arguing that authenticity did not need to be engineered because they already had it.
That became the fascinating part of this entire fast food moment.
McDonald’s presented the BIG ARCH almost like a flagship corporate object, oversized, stacked, carefully engineered, heavily promoted. Burger King responded with flame-grilled familiarity and a deliberately less controlled image. The companies were no longer simply competing on taste or price. They were competing on who appeared more believable.
And honestly, that may be the most modern form of advertising possible.
The Whopper itself has a long history. Introduced in 1957, it actually predates the Big Mac and became Burger King’s defining product for decades. Larger, messier, harder to eat cleanly, more physically uneven than the carefully stacked advertising versions most companies prefer to show.
Which is why this photograph interested me.
Unlike the BIG ARCH image I photographed earlier, this one already has a good sized bite taken out of it. The wrapper is still there. The burger is compressed from the bite. Sauce and onions are shifting out of place. It looks handled because it was handled.
That changes the photograph completely.
The image stops being about idealized presentation and becomes more about evidence, consumption, and the strange reality of how people actually interact with fast food. The burger becomes less like advertising and more like an object moving through someone’s life for a few minutes before disappearing.
That tension has become part of what I am exploring with the Food From Bag To Background project.
Fast food companies spend billions trying to construct images around products like this. Commercials, slogans, campaigns, celebrity promotions, social media teams, engineered branding language. But once the wrapper opens and someone takes a bite, the entire performance starts collapsing back into something very physical and very ordinary.
And somehow that may be the most authentic part of the entire thing.
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