2025 07 25
Lil house on the South Side, Chicago, Illinois. November, 2022. © Clayton Hauck
From the recent archives… working on the zine… which will realistically become more of a booklet. I have minimal expectations for how many of these I will actually sell, but much like this here blog, that’s not why I’m doing it. The process, so far, has been very enjoyable and motivating. It’s giving me purpose, which is nice. Printing and pairing images is exciting and I’m hoping to partner with some friends on the design portion, which is where I am weaker. It’s giving me grand ideas of doing all of this more and making it part of what I do. Becoming a publisher, an imprint, whatever it may be. Of course, dreaming is easy and things often change corse once the going gets tough.
-Clayton
2025 07 16
Greed. Do you see it? Chicago, Illinois. June 2025. © Clayton Hauck
You don’t need to leave your neighborhood to make good photos. This is what my dog Buddy has taught me. He’s also harassing me to finally print those zines I’ve been meaning to get to. Okay, Buddy. I’m on it!
-Clayton
2025 06 18
House in spring. Mt Sterling, Illinois. March, 2025. © Clayton Hauck
I printed some recent Ill Wandering images in black & white, this one included, for a photography show this Friday, June 20th, at my studio. If you’re one of the three people who will see this post and are free that night, it would be swell if you could swing on through! There will be drinks and snacks, along with photos from two other photographers and our Realm photobook popup shop. In a way, it’s kind of like my own art photography coming out party, or at least that’s what it feels like.
More info about the event can be found here.
-Clayton
2024 04 26
Abandoned house. Chicago, Illinois. February, 2025. © Clayton Hauck
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about how time slowly eats away at things. This tree on our block has been slowly losing limbs. This house, behind the tree, has been sitting abandoned for years now, exposed to the elements, the wood surely rotting away and losing its strength. It’s a decision we can make, to hold on and keep gripping. But after enough storms, even the strongest among us eventually choose to allow nature to take its course.
Without death, life is not possible.
Eventually, the for sale sign goes up, and if luck plays any part, new life is breathed in and a new start can begin. The train depot becomes a hotel. The hotel becomes apartments. The cobbler becomes a scarf shop, then a music studio. Time is a flat circle, you hear on television show, a line the writers lifted from a book, which was stolen from a spoken tale. With luck, your circle will be one filled with joy and adventure.
-Clayton
2025 04 15
A house in winter. Chicago, Illinois. March, 2025. © Clayton Hauck
Sometimes my inner voice just tells me I need to make a photo of something. This house was one of those instances.
As I was making this photo, a man walked out of the front door to grab the mail.
“I like your house.” I told him, to take an edge off of the awkward moment.
“Really?” he asked, calling my bluff. “It’s probably going to be for sale soon.”
I told him I already had a house as I walked off, regretting not asking him a dozen other questions (why are you selling? where are you going? how did we get here?).
Curiosity is how I got here. I know that much.
-Clayton