Tag Archives: wrongwaygang

Shelfies

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Harpo and I were on a mission not to pay rent. We succeeded (mostly) from May 2013 – to November 2016, subleasing for about 4 months from friends, otherwise we sleeping outside or house sitting. We stayed in a lot of houses. I took photos of bookshelves; and every home, every collection, is a metaphor and a way of being.

The intimacy of a book collection, the utensils in the kitchen,  contents of a backpack, and altar, or a shrine extend the image of our personal myth. It’s something about the entanglement with language – the romance of the unsaid – but also narrative form. A desire to explain ourselves, a poem made of objects, a mirror.

Great Basin Sandwalkers

The sunsets are soft & washy just as the days are brite & brutal

Everything in every direction …

The only sign of human life are traces of powerlines, unused looking roads, and crushed flattened cans rusted breyond recognition

The road is seemingly endless, and the topograpyhy hardly varies during a day of travel

But the sage is blooming…