Out there. Way out there.
The road trip. The grand tour. Mostly along Route 66. In New Mexico.
Or better said, by Neil Young:
“Well, they say that Santa Fe is less than ninety miles away,
And I got time to roll a number and rent a car.
I’ve been flyin’ down the road, and I’ve been starvin’ to be alone,
And independent from the scene that I’ve known.
So I’ll stop when I can, find some fried eggs and country ham.
I’ll find somewhere where they don’t care who I am.
Oh, Albuquerque, Albuquerque.”
I think these pictures get the same place. Isolation. Aloneness. Disconnectedness.
But, not in me.
After all the year is 2017. It’s all gonna get better. In a minute. So, they say. Me, I’m just exploring. And, in a few minutes I’m going to go explore New Orleans. In dense fog.
The pictures. These were once vibrant color works. Then I got to them. I changed everything. The mood. The tone. The feeling. I guess I’m auditioning for the film industry. Or not.