1/4/12
8/18/11
8/16/11
8/15/11
6/30/11
6/29/11
6/28/11
6/27/11
6/17/11
6/8/11
6/7/11
I was quietly reminded of being 13 and romantic about the sky, the air, the light and the sound of passing cars.
Our family would stay at hotels along the highway, maybe traveling to Alabama, possibly Pennsylvania. My sister, brother and I would venture out on our bikes to whatever was around, hoping to find a view. Usually a blend of strip malls and farms. Having nowhere to go and no responsibility besides to amuse ourselves and take it all in until it was time to keep driving. Feeling only the open space of time to fill before us.
Keith Sweat and the first sunburn of the summer.
Disposible cameras and Applebees.
Bike racks, number plates, leathers and clips. The sound of our cranks and our freewheels spinning.
6/6/11
5/23/11
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