It has been more than a month since my last post, been busy traveling in the Northwest & Texas. Busy getting ill, busy working, busy fixing computer hard drive issues, busy buying more crap to replace or repair the damaged crap, busy thinking, busy trying to not think about any of it. Busy shooting photos of somber blue skies at dusk. Busy staring into the haze of pale dawns and starless night skies. Busy staring at 70s Guild Bluesbirds I can't afford. Busy sweating every word out of every mouth. Busy taking walks trying to imagine the world 7,000 years ago... and 7,000 years from now. Busy quietly spazzing out about how I'll ever finish all those broken Ghost Wars songs.
Busy. Too busy. And yet entirely undecided in any direction.
So here's a random image I shot a few years ago while driving around Southern and Central Oregon. This gentleman was an artist; a maker of mobiles and large sculptures in wood and scrap metal. His home was a maze of art and discarded artifacts. He was perhaps the most motivated person I've ever met in my life. And he was crazier than a bag of cats. All of which has nothing to do with nothing, and more than likely something to do with all of the above. I think of this man often. I love him and fear him more than I can rightly explain.
Ourafternoon together came as a result of merely passing his house while randomly winding down the road, no idea where I was or why I was doing what I was doing. I can't even recall his name. But my roll of film from that day is one of the finest things I've ever shot. Our time together was perfect and beautiful. They say the company we keep is ultimately a reflection of how we see ourselves.