Iowan Driven to Virginia

WELCOME

2009-09-13T09:04:00.001-07:00

If you're here you probably got a postcard and were curious. Roam around if you like. Comment, check in under the postcard you got. Give us your own account of the picture. Be sure to check Older Posts to see everything.

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This project was sponsored by SEP and made by EPS after a week long trip from Ames, IA to Blacksburg, VA. The pictures are posted in chronological order, so you'll see them backwards if you start with the tomatoes.

Much love.

Turn it Out

2009-09-09T16:26:00.000-07:00

This is for you. There's so much I want to say. Do you remember the time we boiled tomatoes? Water has always connected our ideas, and our bodies. My thoughts can't live out of water. We understand each other because I let your tomatoes wash in my pot. And I'll cook them and peel them cook them again, and eat them. Thanks for sharing your life with me. I've always been a fish in water, and that's what my postcard is for, to thank you for sharing your water with me. Some day we might make it out of here, but I wouldn't mind if we didn't.

Good Luck

2009-09-09T16:23:00.000-07:00

Lonely Cat. I'm not going to say anything here. Nothing about cats. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to mention this picture. There's nothing to say about it. You know what I mean. You want to talk about it so badly but there's nothing to say. There's hardly anything to remark. If only the picture weren't so indescribable and plain. If only there were something remarkable about it. If only the cat weren't so obvious. Get out of here, cat. You're ruining the picture we all want to talk about.

The Hollow

2009-09-09T16:10:00.000-07:00

When the hollow is lit up by moonlight you can't take a picture of it. It runs too fast. If you could build a dam and keep the light in, keep the space from rolling, the shot would be clear. Living in the hollow on a full moon I experienced something that moved faster than I do. I couldn't ignore it. Spilling the trees, spilling the gravel, spilling the inhabitants, out of the woods, out of the path, out of the houses, give up being rooted and tumble in it. It's really a wash.

Calendar

2009-09-09T16:07:00.000-07:00

June bug. It's easy to tell what it is. It's not a firefly. And it's June. I'm still on the back porch of a house in the middle of the mountains. I am leaving the light on to take pictures of the bugs that come around. I'm glad to have something to focus on. The dog wants to get frisky with me but I'm not really comfortable with dogs. Bugs mind their own business. There is some kind of coating on the wood here that makes it a different color than the wood on the right. There's a dimension we prefer over others.

Ode to the Mailbox

2009-09-09T16:03:00.001-07:00

I guess we don't need you to get mail. A little home for a letter. A bus station. A safe place for meaning. For awhile at my home in Ames, Iowa, we used a crab cage as a mailbox. This left the mail vulnerable, looking like some delicious advertisements and bills and postcards had arrived from the trenches of the ocean. We do dig something up when we read a piece of mail. Associations, that's the real eating of it, do you know what I mean? Do you have a mailbox? What color is it? What day is your favorite day for mail?

Deceiving Clarity

2009-09-09T15:55:00.000-07:00

At night in the mountains I don't trust the darkness. Even with a full moon. The light and dark oversimplify the way the silhouettes of mountains grip me. Trying to explain myself I had to work with a gradient. You can make a house out of gray boards. It's the best protection against night. It makes its own reason. It's also a practical shelter. The brain is a muscle but what is wood? Patterns, I guess. Can you find the moth?

Scrabble

2009-09-09T15:27:00.000-07:00

I wrote a poem sitting on the bench here. I wonder how many scrabble points it's worth. So much to say, so few letters. If dogs could play scrabble I wonder how many letters they would use. I think some species would have advantages over others. I guess the idea of literate dogs is silly. The idea of literate people is practical. Here's the context of the picture...

Read the comment.

How Much Longer

2009-09-09T15:20:00.000-07:00

The universe started getting restless. What's the hurry, where are you going, my back hurts, you're on the last gallon of gas, turn around for awhile, who's in that car, what's my middle name, who can can can, I'm glad I'm glad I'm glad. Why does God hop around the car like a bug? I'm not religious but I get a kick out of thinking cricket will live forever. There are many ways to travel across the country. Riding on a mirror is a fine one. I wonder what's the reason for her migration.

Fret

2009-09-09T15:16:00.000-07:00

There's nothing awry. Still we fret. I tried to tune the guitar by ear and ended up landing in a different key. Usually when we try to make something the way we want it the world resists us, and we can't play the music the way we want it to sound. It's OK to fret. The music can sound good anyway. A guitar in the passenger seat is a third passenger we like to listen to. Even if she's not what we thought she would say.

Missing Spider

2009-09-06T10:09:00.000-07:00

This spider is missing. It was last seen on the blue car in the morning where the dew drops ended. It can dash quickly in any direction. On a sunny day it pretends to be one month dead, an exoskeleton. We're not sure why it was on the car. At this point we're trying to determine if it's wanted. Spider was last seen at a hotel in Ohio. It can dance, is prone to drinking Coronas with lime, and has means to travel.

Charm

2009-09-06T10:04:00.000-07:00

I don't know why nature makes things that fascinate me. This is a picture of rock riding in the car. The curves are so good for something. I get nervous about forgetting what I've been thinking about. I get attached to objects that remind me of thoughts. This rock fits the curve of my palm. It has a single vein. When I hold it it holds my thoughts.

Map

2009-09-06T09:58:00.000-07:00

Maps and phone books are brimming with useful information. Passenger has to transmit the information for Driver. I seldom made anything clear. I get distracted by the colors and lines. My directional intuition is a bit like this picture. Coming in like an airplane it's easier to see. If you want to see all the big buildings you need to get a bit lost. Maps are guides to mazes. Or sometimes they're simply mazes.

Passenger

2009-09-06T09:53:00.000-07:00

Yours truly. I decided to put the self portrait in because I am a beautiful narrator. See the way I'm about the say something? I'm always that way. Listening to music I'm sedate. Usually I'm sedate. There's so much to listen to. I try to see with a camera when I take a picture. A self portrait attempts a black hole. So when you see this, do you feel like you're looking at yourself?

View Point

2009-09-06T09:46:00.000-07:00

I liked slouching in the passenger seat with my feet on the dashboard. By the end of the trip a permanent impression of my foot was smeared in chalky white. I was trying to get the clouds, but the filter effect of the windshield kept turning them blue. In this case the blue bridge is on the line where the tint turns blue. The illusion is that the clouds look naturally blue. Life is about that kind of balance: making the illusion caused by a filter into a passable reality.

Driver

2009-09-04T12:45:00.000-07:00

For a minute I regretted snapping this picture. The dam in the background was mystical. It was impossible to get a good shot, trees blocked most of the view. Trying to catch it in the camera I missed the full effect. Looking at it now I think the advantage is it's still a mysterious structure. Sam, my dad, the driver, he didn't really notice the architecture resembled a fortress. A serious driver. We rolled a long way. I never touched the pedal.