In my keepsake folder, I have carried a photograph of two people I’ve never met. Going on 30-35 years. Where I found it I can no longer rightly remember, though I have a vague recollection of watching it emerge while I was peeling another photo out of a frame. Continue reading Someone Else’s Parents, July 1956
I’ve been carrying around a small piece of note paper since November, 2009, when my welding teacher, Solar Bob, drew a map for me with his ever present Sharpie.
Solar Bob kept pretty much to himself in his metal works studio and repair shop. With his trailer parked just behind; over and upon which, large piles of metal sheets, rods, pipes, and poles had been stacked. His domain rested in the far corner of an intentional community set on a ragged and worn out piece of desert west of Tucson, Arizona. Continue reading Other People’s Places