I miss that time when the photo process was a mystery, only a few of us understood f-stops, and all the other “secrets”. The time when you could lock the dark room door, be alone with your music and magic chemicals (Dectol, Acetic Acid, don’t jump to conclusions, gentlemen).

During the twenty some odd years spent on the west coast, time spent shooting, was driving desert roads, hiking waterfalls, outdistancing radio stations, alone with the dust and sand. I visited every ghost towns on the map, I found old dead cars, I met a few desert rats. In places where deserted is real.

I promised myself that when I finish shooting in the desert, my next project would be civilized with cities, hotels, decent cafes and showers. So here I am back in the mid-west, its green and there is plenty of water.

Tumbleweed, photographed at Perris CA

But I find myself missing the “wide-open”, the eastern slope, the tules. The ocotillo and the cholla cactus. So now you know who I am, that I am not meant to be satisfied, The grass IS always greener. If I am there I miss here, If I am here I miss there. I hope to ride back that way again.