![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDpqkmyfEVlNvdZC0Xp-O67mKOiTo2krl-7zcwPVc7VN1V4_enlDjQRL6m56veic_3a-Ug_43ljkGUO0XltDv9tpBJQSz5bmLAgD7zDO60x-dD0jOidEj0U9DzEQTtNQx4jVszyDbW-YSt/s400/northdakota.jpg)
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:
otay!
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,
e.
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