Mothers Stove / Transformation



This photograph is a continuation of the Transformation Series. Please refer to the previous post to understand my vision for what qualifies as a transformation. This particular image was created during a drive called the photo hunt. I was in the Sonora Desert when I came across a dry floodplain. There wasn’t a bush or tree in sight when I noticed a stove in the distance. As I got closer, I realized it had become a target for shooters.


What caught my attention was the patina created by rust around the bullet holes. The holes formed an interesting pattern that contrasted beautifully with the white porcelain finish.


I was completely alone in the desert when I began photographing the stove. Afterward, I went home, processed the film, and reviewed the results. However, I felt the photograph was unremarkable—a “mug shot” of a shot-up stove. It lacked creativity and merely served as a record of my presence there. I decided I needed to return and create something more compelling and artistic.


Given that the dry floodplain was barren, I thought incorporating a long shadow would make for a more dynamic image—something I’d feel proud to put my name on.


I returned at sunset to capture the shadow. Setting up my camera, I waited as the shadow lengthened. I had to continuously reposition my large-format camera, which presented its own challenges with depth of field and focus. Eventually, the shadow extended beyond my lens’s angle of view. I made a few exposures, hoping I had everything right and that the final image would match my pre-visualization.


When I developed the film and made a contact print, I found the shadow running off the frame created a sense of tension, which I found appealing.


For me, this photograph embodies transformation. The stove, once the centerpiece of someone’s kitchen, had become discarded junk and a target for shooters. I often revisit my favorite spots, and I returned to this one about a year later—only to find the stove gone. Strangely, I felt heartbroken, as though I had developed a peculiar relationship with it. Looking back, if I had known someone would remove it, I might have loaded it into my truck and kept it in my backyard as an art piece.