Winnebago | Locust Grove

Dreams of travel and adventure. The open road. East coast to west coast. Not one RV but two. Parked, going nowhere. Trips long since complete? Or miles still to go? Either way they represent some mode of escape, some means to relieve pressure. Designed to be homey but not at home. An invitation to discover a new version of ourselves. Or maybe to recollect the youth we threw away.


Location: Richmond, VA

Date: May 2022

Remarks: Exploring abandoned homes ready for tear down. Looking outside in and through and all around (but not inside out). Chasing light and shadows and reflections. School bus driving by was sheer luck.


Are my eyes unfocused? If the jogger is blurry and the rest of the photograph is sharp, is it still a good picture? I only know that seeing the people feels like an important part of the process. I’m always fascinated by human movement and gait in particular. I look for the split second when both feet leave the ground and it seems like people are floating.

 

I’m going to be this other thing. This other way.

“I once wrote a letter to my younger self and told the younger me, It’s okay to rewrite my story from time to time. And not only okay, but necessary. Sometimes you have to see things through, even though they don’t cause you joy. But sometimes you need to say, You know what? I’m not going to surrender my joy. I’m not going to be this thing anymore. That story is no longer true. I’m going to be this other thing. This other way.” —Cheryl Strayed, The Path Made Clear