Another Virginia picture. How could I not make it?
Oh yeah, I made it. Really made it. I made three different pictures and layered them. So, this isn’t really a photograph. It’s something else.
Maybe it’s my art.
I don’t know. I’m not exactly sure what art is in today’s world. I believe all art is autobiographical. I also believe that most viewers make their own meaning to an image by bringing their own life experiences to it.
Autobiographical? How is this about me?
It’s a document of what I see, feel and experience as I get used to my new life. I think it’s also a happy picture which reflects on how I feel. Sure, I’m gone a lot. But, I’m very happy to be home when I return.
There’s lots to do on the farm, but I know I won’t get shot, robbed or carjacked. Besides the thing that I drive in the neighborhood is a beat to hell farm truck with farm license plates. Thing is right. Who’d carjack that? If someone really wanted it they’d have to learn the trick of starting it. If they could start it they couldn’t drive it for more than five miles without getting stopped for using illegal license plates.
Believe me when I say that the local sheriffs and state troopers know where trucks like ours belong and how far we drive them. They also know who should be driving them.
Oh, and did I tell you? The neighbors are awesome. Awesome is a word I don’t use that much because I think it’s over used.
Our neighbors left breakfast for us on our front porch when we finally returned from a long time on the road. They guessed correctly that the refrigerator was filled with kid food.
This is farm country so we found a picnic basket covered with a red and white checked cloth. That alone was perfect. It was filled with fresh baked homemade wheat bread, farm fresh eggs in various colors, freshly butchered and cured sausage, and homemade yogurt.
“Are you ready for the country?” Neil Young once wrote.
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