I feel guilty for treating y’all like a captive audience and forcing you to look at some art I added to my website, but not so guilty that I’m not going to do it. Mostly it’s because I am lazy and don’t feel like digging up a real post. No wait, strike that — it’s because these photographs are so AMAZING and INCREDIBLE that I felt I would be doing you a disservice to withhold them.
Even I didn’t believe that. Whatever. I’m posting them anyway.
These images are from a series of large format photographs I did on my home town Texarkana, a wee settlement at the corner of Texas, Arkansas and Louisiana. Shocking, given the name.
Texarkana is a funny place. Like any small hometown, it has more than its fair share of a provincial mindset. I found myself bursting at the seams by the ripe old age of 15, grown too big for all those little ideas.
Or so I thought. Once gone, I was surprised by how very much I missed driving the lonely highways at night, with no one except for the armadillos and opossums to witness my attempts to break the sound barrier in my battered Mazda 626.
And, trite though it may be to write this, I miss hauling our little red wagon full of cow bones around the levees of our family farm more than I ever thought possible.
I kind of hate that I was so cynical about home when I was there, but I suppose that is the teenage condition. And I suppose nostalgia is the adult equivalent, because home is not a real place; it’s a state of being that dissipates along with acne and adolescence.
Holy crap, that was way too heavy for a Friday.
Go see some more pictures from this series here if you dare.
Have a super weekend, y’all!