Friday, April 18, 2008

home on the range

Compared to North Dakota my native state of Kansas is a bustling metropolis, yet still I feel these lost and empty places, these huge skies, to the soles of my feet. Forty years ago my parents once augmented their meager income by raiding such lost homesteads as these, haunted and wary of rattlensnakes. In Kansas there are some 3,000 ghost towns, but in North Dakota are there any living towns?

This is the landscape of my dreams; by night I wander these plains and try to live in such shells of habitations. Here I am at home. As the lady says, “I love it here... It’s my own little corner of the world.”

From such a fundament of bleakness the only way is up, this is a tabula rasa primed for any mark. The frontier is not tamed, it lives wild, and the photographer retraces pioneer steps and guides us through territories so much emptier for having once been inhabitated.

Meet you there.

1 comment:

Emma Gini said...

meet you there with the wind in our hair.

what is the password for the tigerloaf loves at hypem?
more loaf lovin' comin'.

lovin' YOU,