Great Black And White Photographers Part 3

1.) While I was doing part two, my eye was caught by Clarence John Laughlin's photos, because of the major differences in value, even in a black and white picture. His pictures that I picked went from very dark in some spots, to very bright in others.
2.) The senses I feel in his pictures, Picture 1
I see the dust collecting on the wood stairs. The bright light shines in my eyes, as I admire the complex designs on the stair sides. I look down the spiral to the ground, two floors below and see the wooden floor, flat and motionless, contrasting the spinning feeling of the spiral staircase.
I smell the rusty handrail. The smell of mildew penetrates my nose, but as I get closer to the wall, the fresh sent of new cut wood is present. Not as prominent as the old, musty smell, but still there nonetheless.
I hear the thud every step I take on the wooden stair. It assures me that I am alone for no other sound is present. I tap the railing to check its stability and it makes a quiet ting.
I taste the mustiness in the air. The same taste that always comes when you are in somewhere that is so old you can taste the age. The spiraling stairs cause me to start feeling woozy, and the musty taste is soon replaced by a taste of my lunch, a ham and cheese sandwich, finished less than ten minutes prior.
I feel the cold, hard metal handrail, strong and unmoving. I struggle going down the stairs as I feel them hard and unforgiving if I were to fall. I begin to feel dizzy, as the staircase seems to spin forever.
Picture 2
I see the archway formed by the trees. It looks almost like a tunnel, with a light glowing at the end, yet the holes caused by the leaves and branches shed light throughout. I also see that the trees which I thought led to a glorious future, just leads to another forest, nearly impossible to navigate through.
I smell the fresh scent of oak. It tingles my nostrils, along with the smell of grass just growing in. Other springtime smells are easy to decipher in the wonder of scents, along with something fruity. All of the sudden, the scent of a diesel engine fills the air.
I hear the grass muffle my every step. Then two birds start a conversation as a chipmunk squeaks when it finds an acorn. The soothing sounds of the forest then are blocked out by the sound of a bulldozer, taking out everything in its path.
I taste the change of a normal spring day in the forest to the bitter taste of exhaust. I cough from the fumes and start to cough up blood. The iron taste in my mouth tastes almost like a sweet relief from the pipe exhaust onslaught previous.
I feel the cool grass as I fall onto it. After I struggle to regain my balance I fall again. I can feel the vibration of the dirt as the bulldozer slowly moves closer to my body. Pain surges through my legs and up my spine, as I realize the bulldozer came for me.

To share my ideas with the word, I would like to create posters and blogs, if not another webpage as well.