This couple is looking directly at my camera through their sunglasses. They remain impassive, neither frowning nor smiling. They are seated on a pier full of tourists and fishermen out for an evening of pleasure and sport. Yet this couple does not seem to overtly enjoy the moment, even if the setting sun bathes them in warm light and the poster just behind them urges them to do so. I only include a corner of the poster – the corner containing the incongruous word that makes this image work.

The incongruity of this drinking establishment’s signage speaks of both thrift and creativity. With just a simple slash of spray paint and an exclamation point, this bar’s management alters the content of its sign to change the past into the present, and does it instantly -- at minimal expense. My image of this sign works even more effectively because of the composition and the color scheme. The white doorframe at left and white arch at right are linked by the horizontal white sign and white metal fence in the middle of the image. Meanwhile, the curve of the white arch is echoed by the massive curving shadow of the streetlight imprinted on the gray wall. A thread of red also flows through the image, starting with the red drapery within the white door at left, culminating in the emphatic red editing on the signage.

Bisbee is an isolated border town, only ten miles from Mexico. Over the last hundred years it has seen boom and bust. In 1900, it had 20,000 inhabitants. Today it has 5,000. It is a old copper mining town, stacked vertically upon the side of a canyon, frozen in time. At its heart was a street known as Brewery Gulch. Once jammed with saloons, brothels, and gambling dens, Brewery Gulch existed to take money out of miners pockets around the clock. The street is still there, now filled with shops, inns, galleries, and restaurants. The Brewery, which once gave the street its name, is gone, even though its name can still be seen etched in copper within this cornice over the door. We see only a small piece of old Bisbee in this image, but what a characteristic image it is. One word, carved in the very color of the mineral that gave once this town its identity.

This chalkboard was hanging on the wall of a truck driver’s school just outside Cochin. I don’t read Hindi, so I don’t know what most of these words say. (I am not sure what “Royality” means either. Royalty? Reality?) It really doesn’t matter – what matters is the embellishment of language so common in Indian communication. No matter how small the task, it takes many words to explain it. Something as straightforward as how to properly drive a truck can become a very complex matter in Cochin.

At first glance, this appears to be descriptive rather than expressive. But the longer we look at it, the more ironic the words in this image become. Broadway is a commercial street, and as it flows out of the downtown area of Denver, it is lined with cheap hotels, pawnshops, and saloons. I made this image on an early Sunday morning – there are no cars parked along the street, and not much traffic, either. The Burte Hotel no longer exists. More recent signs tell us that it has become the Jumping Jack Pawn Shop. As the eye moves down the street, it notes, in reverse, a giant sign advertising Jonas Brothers Furs. That incongruous sign becomes the ultimate irony here – the ghost of a luxury business dominating a strip of buildings that no longer dispense luxuries.

In the late 1960s, after Alcatraz prison had closed down, hundreds of Native American political activists occupied the island as a symbolic "reservation." The graffiti they left behind can still be seen on the US emblem over the entrance to the prison. The occupiers have cleverly built the world “Free” out of four of the red stripes in the shield. That word is framed in an ironic context. The eagle and shield are symbols of freedom, yet the old prison is not. Historically confined to reservations, Native Americans have suffered imprisonment of another kind. I zoom in on the shield to stress this alteration, and include the crumbling eagle for context. Without the word “Free”, this would be a picture about age and disrepair. With it, the image becomes a political statement.

Chinatown reflects both Asian traditions and the dynamic presence of a 21st century American city. The words on the wall are in an Asiatic language. They seem to be incongruously at odds with the woman who pushes her stroller beneath them. Another woman slumps next to a tree, her shopping bags at her feet. She seems to exist in a world of her own. This image would probably mean even more to those who understand the meaning of the words on that wall. A final incongruity is provided by the reflections in the windows – a futuristic cityscape appears to us, but neither of these women will ever see it.

(Since I first posted this image, viewer CeiPui Wong has emailed me to tell us that " the words in this image are written in Traditional Chinese, the 3 big words on the top line means "Very Delicious", the 5 words in bottom line means "A Leisure Eatery Place". Thanks, CeiPui. Now we can view this image with full context for it.

Dairy cows graze on farms that sprawl across the twisting roads of the Point Reyes Seashore nature preserve. The words on this sign warn us of potential obstacles in the road. Although there is not another car in sight, we must proceed slowly. Very slowly. I build this image around the curving white lines that divide our territory from the bovine domain. The road carries us past the three subjects that stand to the right of it: a rock, a cow, and the words on that sign.

I made this image through the locked door of a local theatre. I shot into a dark corner – focusing on what seems to be a door to perhaps a hallway or storage area. All of it is covered by the words of a coded language spoken by the few to the many – graffiti. In some cases, graffiti is considered defacement and vandalism. In this case, it helps shape the character of this place. It symbolizes personal expression. This theatre houses local concerts that encourage improvisation, and the graffiti provides another outlet for such expression.

Petaluma has saved this concrete drinking fountain on a busy downtown corner. It was erected in 1891 by the Women's Christian Temperance Union – an organization dedicated to banning the sale and drinking of alcohol. The words engraved on this severe, monolithic fountain reflect 19th century morality. I built the image around this severity and its long shadow. The fountain still exists in the 21st century, and so does both the issue of Alcoholism and the WCTU.

Historical preservation of its old buildings and signage helps Petaluma maintain the image of a place where time seems to stand still. The image is made up words – some of them in fading paint on old brick, others in the neon tubing on a decaying sign over an old shop. These words speak of the times in which they were created. The effect of time on these signs is evident here as well. The advertising and marketing techniques of the early 20th century are incongruously still present on the streets of Petaluma in the early 21st century.

This old car was parked across the street from the house where I was staying in Petaluma. I photographed it for a half hour, and boiled it down to the whimsically distinctive artwork on the lid of its trunk. I also noticed that the handle on the trunk tilted down on the left, so I tilted the camera slightly to make the license place lean a bit down at the right. These tilts, together with the feathery drawing, puts the image into motion. It is the simple word “Idaho” on the license plate that adds the final touch to this image. Idaho is a essentially a rural state, and the folksy drawing on this trunk lid would seem very much at home on a country road.

There are two Chinatowns in San Francisco. One belongs to the locals, while the other charms the tourists. Both locals and tourists enjoy the cuisine -- restaurants range from this simple family-run place to establishments serving over 1,000 people at a time. This image speaks of the patrons who are not there – the restaurant seems deserted except for two employees working at a back table. The words help give this restaurant a specific location. The neon sign promotes a Chinese beer, but it also tells us exactly where this restaurant is located, and in doing so, suggests the nature of the restaurant as well.

I shot this image, with its multiple reflective layers, to express the confusion and complexity of the shopping experience. The focal points are the headless mannequins posed against the lighted panels, and the abstracted arm and flying hair of a customer studying a rack of clothing behind their legs. On the right side of the image a vertical band reflects still other shoppers. They appear inside the building, yet are actually outside in Union Square, adding a touch of chaotic context to the already busy scene. However, even more context is provided by the Macy’s logo on the bottom of the two windows. It tells us that we are looking into the window of one of the most famous department stores in the world.