R.I.P. Cap'n

Adventures in the Wash

My fellow MFA cohort Camden Hardy embarked on a photo journey this fall to document the length of Tucson's Pantano wash, one mile at a time. I joined him on two trips. On this one we scaled some barbed wire, navigated a deep ravine to drop into the wash, Camden made pinholes and desert photograms, I found and claimed an island. At the end we realized we had been trespassing the whole time. Oops. 

Here was our day together:

Camden.

Me.

Camden's pinhole camera.

Field film changing tent.

The final product.

My desert island.

Bullets.

Oops.

I don't get it.

Incapable of Being Perceived by the Sense of Touch

Pre-nostalgia

“Observe the herd as it grazes past you: it cannot distinguish yesterday from today, leaps about, eats, rests, digests, leaps some more, and carries on like this from morning to night and from day to day, tethered by the short leash of its pleasures and displeasures to the stake of the moment, and thus is neither melancholy nor bored… The human being might ask the animal: ‘Why do you just look at me like that instead of telling me about your happiness?’ The animal wanted to answer, ‘Because I always immediately forget what I wanted to say,’ – but it had already forgotten this answer and hence said nothing, so that the human being was left to wonder.” 

-Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche