You might not remember that I tried a more ambitious version of this project last year, and that the result wasn't great. I need to go back and fix that one day. Until then, though, there's this one with only twenty elements that I think works pretty well.
You know what I mean by erasures: how the city deals with graffiti by swabbing a neutral grey paint-patch over the offensive expression? I've always thought this is a stupid response to the graffiti issue, but then I like graffiti. I'm pro-graffiti. But then I like these pictures of 'graffiti graves', too. Viva contradiction.
Not really sure why it took me so long to get these finished and posted. They've just been sitting in a folder collecting dust since I shot 'em last October whilst visiting with Ted and Sandra in Nogales, Mexico. Those guys, my hosts, both work for the American Consulate down there and were nice enough to let me drop in for a week to soak up some of the good life they got there. No, I'm not being facetious when I say 'good life' (though I suspect they'll most likely think so). I enjoyed myself there, yes, but I can't say Nogales is an ideal spot to, for instance, raise a family. In fact Ted shared some pretty gruesome stories with me and would aside to me on drives, "See that empty lot over there? They found a body half-buried there last week." So it was indicated to me that if I should want to explore the area that I might do so with some trepidation. So I went out a little bit, some with Ted, some alone, and I can't say I sensed any threat really. Oh, there were local police cruising the streets in pick-up trucks with M-16 rifles but nothing more serious than that.
Anyway, so these seventy surface fragments are the evidence of this; of my innocent, little walking visits in and around the town of Nogales. As always, it is my hope and, in fact, my intent that these photo-remnants express the quality of the moment and the location as neatly as a landscape snapshot, say, or a gift shop souvenir. Or - well - yes - but they should function as a different kind of memory trigger. They should represent the periphery of memory moreso, I think, reflecting their point of origin as mere constituent elements that finally equate to the essence of a time and... Urgh! Okay, you caught me. I have no idea what I'm talking about. Sorry.
I go around with a camera everywhere taking these funny little pictures because it's fun.
That's all. It's one of the few things left in life that can still hold my attention and that, ladies and gentlemen, is enough.
Oh, and let me again thank Todd Heilman for selling me his old camera which, sadly, died during this excursion. R.I.P.