DAY 447 | Going Away
“Things move on, time passes, people go away. Sometimes they don’t come back. Only the pictures remain.” — Robert Frank
Robert Frank
U.S. 285, New Mexico, 1955
Gelatin silver print
From the series The Americans (1955–1957)
Dimensions: approx. 34 × 22 cm (image)
Sheet: approx. 35.6 × 27.9 cm
Collection: Maison Européenne de la Photographie (MEP), Paris
Disclaimer
No copyright infringement is intended. I do not own nor claim to own the rights to the above content. If you are the rightful owner of material (photos, videos, artwork, products) posted to this nonprofit blog and want it removed or credited, please contact me at mynarrowcorner@gmail.com, and your material will be promptly removed or credited.
By-ways of desolation, and
ReplyDeletelong and lonely highways, we have many in the USA.
Among them are US Route 50, Interstate 70, State Route 62, Highway 139 and US State 395.
Towns are few and far between, and some towns are dangerous with crack head zombies for denizens.
They are known to lie in the middle of the road to appear in distress to passing motorists, only to ambush the motorists and rob them !
Not all highways are dangerous.
Other highways are great for sexual liaisons with the obliging and willing :) My own sweet jock ass has been fucked to ecstasy quite a few times ! :)
Robert Frank’s book “The Americans” was a watershed in photojournalism in book form, as it showed America as it really was in the not so nifty 1950’s. Beat poet and writer Jack Kerouac wrote its introduction.
It takes an outsider’s eye to show the truth about America.
Truth has its own beauty.
-CA jock
I've crossed the southern states several times, from Florida to California, sometimes leaving the Interstates to take secondary roads. I still remember the gorgeous landscapes of the South (especially Louisiana, Arizona and New Mexico), the heat, the rattlesnakes squashed on the road, and the fear of stopping in the desert to take a quick piss because of all the wildlife wriggling and buzzing around. You think the desert is empty, but there's a whole world of life there just waiting to bite, sting, scare, or poison you. I have a particularly fond memory of Louisiana, although the bayous really scared the sh**t out of me. There are actually people who live and work there day and night, catching snakes and alligators to sell their skins. Some even fish at night (you can see the lamps on top of their boats) in the middle of those places that feel like they came straight out of Dante's Hell. I wouldn't spend an hour there for a million bucks, just as you couldn't pay me to drive on Alligator Alley in Florida.
Delete