Into The Great Nowhere

I’ve been doing some kind of drive by, or drive through shooting for years. This photograph was actually made in black and white on Tri-X film. The color comes later, much later. Like last night while I was playing around.

I was much younger when I made this picture. I don’t think that I’d drive and shoot in the snow these days. No matter how much experience you have, this just ain’t safe. Make a wrong move and you are in a snow bank or wrapped around a tree.

The picture was made on Highway 395 on the way from Long Beach, California to Reno, Nevada. That’s a whole other story that I’ll tell you one of these days.

Because.

I want to talk about something else. My family and lies they told the kids. If you recall I’ve learned a lot from Ancestory.com that showed me just how many untruths our parents told us. I’ll share one as reminder. My dad had a sister who we never even knew about. Olga was her name. Later in her life, she lived and died not five miles from where I grew up. I never knew it.

Here’s the latest truthy story they told us. I was born in Brooklyn. No. I wasn’t. Apparently, my dad wanted to move from New York to California, Los Angeles to be exact. He dragged my mom on a road trip from NYC to LA. while she was pregnant with me. They ended up staying there for about three months where I popped onto the scene. Sure, I lived in Brooklyn until I was about two years old, but I’m a Californian.

I have California bloodlines.

Isn’t that something? It explains a lot. I have no idea who or what I am.

I’m just a mutt.