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I blasted north at eighty on the Glendale Freeway, slicing into the hills close by the site of Edward Weston's original little honeysuckle-covered photo studio. As I approached the Ventura Freeway interchange flyovers, I entered square Z80 and held my camera far out the window and shot. The wind buffeted and tore, and I wondered how long the camera would skitter and skid along the concrete if I lost my grip. |