Stopping Time in Galveston

Isn’t it fascinating that despite all of our clocks and attempts to quantify and anticipate it, that time itself has agency? This image reckons to a day in Galveston. It was December of 2015 and I had research work wandering the gulf. My colleague in anthropology, who also happens to be one of my favorite writers, Joseph Russo was living in an RV park in Beaumont, while doing ethnographic fieldwork. We met up for a few days and time was slow. We rented this cart and pedaled along the gulf singing Lucinda Williams songs and watching migratory birds. The cart creaked and rattled, the surf was gentle, and our voices diffuse. It felt as if the sun was not moving and we could pedal down that bird-shit covered asphalt into infinity. I like to think one version of us is still pedaling there amidst a song.

But the other parts, the parts that returned the cart and eventually said see you later and graduated and moved away and got jobs in other places, are here to tell you about Joseph’s new ethnography: Hard Luck and Heavy Rain. This book, born from his time Beaumont, will generously usher you into what he calls an ecology of hard luck stories. These stories are crafted with a rich quality of presence that carefully stops to listen while looking closer at a region that is all too often overlooked and little understood. If you don’t know what ethnography is or how it it can be used to bring worlds to life, this is the book for you. If you know what ethnography is and how it can be used, this is still the book for you. In profoundly divisive times, Hard Luck and Heavy Rain forges new ways of being with rural Southeast Texas and it’s people. These pages will fold you into a place in which time is not quite time as you know it and you can not ask for a better guide, a more wildly attuned ethnographer and truly gifted writer, to accompany you.

Recording for Gold Chains

Where has the time gone? I hope these days find you in moments of connection with yourself, time, and meaning. Before this year ends, I want to introduce some incredible projects I am proud to have contributed to!

Artwork by the Northern California ACLU and the Tom Feelings Collection LLC

Gold Chains an important podcast produced by the ACLU of Northern California that unveils the hidden history of slavery in California through the courageous voices of African American and Native American individuals. I recorded an interview with Tedde Simon for this episode on Indigenous Injustice. Listen in for some of the lesser known stories of how the Act for the Government and Protection of Indians impacted Indigenous children in ways that are still playing out today.

Listen...to Audio Under the Stars

It was the Autumn of 2019 and time slowed down in Norway, Maine. People on the streets were talking about a body found in the yard of a rural residence just outside of town that belonged to Vernelle Jackson. Little was known or understood about what had happened. Gary Hardcastle and I decided to drive up there and see what we could discover.

A moment on the streets of Norway.

What we found that day led to phone calls and road trips and ultimately an unexpected story about friendship and a promise. I don’t want to say more because if you are in North Carolina, I encourage you to go listen to this and other stories at Audio Under the Stars. The festival will be in Pittsboro on September 23rd and Durham on October 14th. Come lay back, put your head on the earth, and take part in the first collaborative audio storytelling magic this festival has conjured since the pandemic began. Thank you Audio Under the Stars for bringing us together!

Touch the Day

Hello again! This is a piece that I wrote and photographed for the Journal of the Anthropology of North America in 2020. It is difficult to see unless you have the journal so please find it here:

Touch the Day, Alone

Quiet time falling outwards. But isn’t this what we all are: busy for one another? Bowed by reckoning with ourselves, from sitting alone or with the same ones too many times to distinguish ourselves. But you are different, if you are still alive. And if there is a way of feeling this calendar it is with your hands. And really this is all an invitation to touch the day, alone. Or the night. Count empty windows from where you stand and wonder where we all will go. This really takes apart going, don’t you see?

Arizona in January, people still sit together but the hills are a patchwork of hiding places. I can’t tell you when things emerge, but we can sit back and between us imagine the thresholds. In the quiet, things pass between inner and outer worlds, between what is seen and what is imagined, between what is for ourselves and what is for others.

Others. You can see their eyes, these days, but not their mouths. Come too close and a quilted face might just be off kilter, spun out of range. And the freedom of looking out is where we all become in. Steadied by the gaze, we sort ourselves in feet and fingers. There is something more to be said about what is touched, even when we can’t.

But still there are networks down there that we will never follow with our eyes. In the hills things gather terrestrial, dirty fingernails tapping into small stones that hold us up right now. We find ways to sort ourselves even when the networks start to crumble. Even when your eyes get shit in them. Sort it out, as if you needed to be in another order. Or just hide inside and keep your touch to yourself.

Hearing the World More

The Unheard Walks with Stepháne Marin at HearSay International Audio Arts Festival encourages new ways of listening. It begins in a room circled around a table. We are instructed to clip on a player with headphones as well as a small backpack. Stepháne’s movements are deft and graceful. He pulls our attention to him through eye contact and signaling with his hands. Although we have not yet pressed play on our recorders, the walk begins and we leave the Ballyhoura Apple Farm and wind up a path to a small meadow. Because we are on an audio walk, we are already attuned to the sounds our footsteps make together, far off warblers and nearby finches, and the gentle sound of the sun warming the Kilfinane hills. In the meadow, we circle around and without words, Stepháne motions to us to put on our headphones and press play. Together we follow him down the hill and into the village, behind the grocery market next to a lone generator that hums in an alley. The track in our headphones begins subtly and undulates in and out of our presence. Most immediately, this has the profound impact of turning our ears on with amplitude associated with special states such as meditation. We want to hear more, so we do.

Stepháne leads us through the market and on to the outskirts of town with a growing tempo, an increasing clip to his pace and the volume in our headphones. Just as we climb a stone wall, there is something of a torrential sonic downpour that sets upon us and together we begin to run across a verdant pasture. This is perhaps, the most joyous moment of our experience. Somehow Stepháne has convinced us, with the layers of sounds we all share, to run together as if we are being chased. When we reach the end of the pasture, our pace slows and we carefully climb a rocky outcropping presided over by a group of schoolboys. It feels like we have found that place outside of town that you only know about when you have grown up there. Together we look out over the rolling hills of Kilfinane and the boys elbow one another and look back at us. Stepháne motions for us to take off our backpacks and remove a second pair of headphones from our bags. We do, and collectively take the plunge into the next chapter of our story.

You may notice, that up until now, the actual sounds have not really be the subject of this walk. The beauty of Stepháne’s approach is how he carefully blends moments from the world in which you are wandering to create an almost augmented sonic field that builds presence. As we walk together listening, we become more there.

There is a curiosity with which the tracks build and subside, a longing as we wander on the outskirts of town past still houses. The life is in the track that leads us down the road to face the walls that seperate space. The birds and the deep tones in our ears take us over fences and beside a creek, where we change one more time, back to the first set of headphones.

We turn back to town and the tempo that carries us builds. As we round the corner back to the still houses, the first human voices we have heard in an hour begin to murmur about silence. Walking in between closed doors and quiet windows, we hear the voices of the residences reflect on how they experience silence. We don’t see these people, but we feel them.

Their voices grow with us as we circle one last time in between two large trucks and take off our headphones. The walk is over and at once there is the desire to talk and the longing to say nothing at all. More so than superimpose an audio track on our experience of the presence, The Unheard Walks brought us together to deeply listen. By carefully blending field recordings from the Kilfinane area with our actual experience of place during the walk, Stepháne raised the amplitude of our awareness and sustained our collective capacity to hear the world more.

Styrofoam Sands

Sand tells a story about time. The beach at Garrapata State Park is luminous with grains of quartz and feldspar and as of March 24, 2019, styrofoam. I have been regularly visiting this beach on trips to and from Big Sur for the last fifteen years. Sometimes I get tossed around by the waves with surfers and almost always I wander upon the cliffs where the iceplant grows thick and radiates in shades of red. Most recently, I wandered along just after high tide and photographed white, spongy styrofoam pearls where they rested. This series explores how the shores of tomorrow reveal to us of our consumption today.  

Upon the Thirdcoast

I just returned from Chicago and my first Thirdcoast Conference . Thirdcoast brings together audio producers and storytellers from all over the world for several days of workshops centered around the “art and craft of documentary production.” Perhaps you can imagine the thunderous din of somewhere between 800-1000 audio storytellers gathered together? I assure you, it was gloriously deafening. Upon most occasions, there were so many conversations buzzing you could feel the sound overtake your body. As a participant, you were amidst a constant conversation, whether you were having one or not. I found the conference to be invigorating and I am planning to share some of my favorite aspects here in the weeks to come, but for now, I would like to introduce you to two friends also attending and a few of their projects.

I first met Raymond Thompson in a course called Documenting America seven years ago. I was struck by his sensitivity as a visual storyteller and the way in which his work listens and attends to the world in a visceral and memorable way. We have stayed in touch over the years and some of my favorite projects of his include Justice Undone and The Divide, that attend to incarceration and the impact it has on families in Virginia. Presently, Raymond is thinking through the African American experience of nature through a photographic project he calls Imaging/Imagining Trees and Imaging/Imagining Creaking Forrest. These images do important work of “Deconstructing colonial optics of African Americans” through stunning photographs situating participants in the forests of West Virginia.

In addition, Raymond is currently collaborating with talented writer, editor, and audio producer Diana Mazzella on a podcast called Sparked that looks beyond the widespread stories of challenging lives in Appalachia to bring to the fore people who are steadfastly creating positive and unexpected changes. Together, Diana and Raymond are looking closer at a place many people look beyond to tell multifaceted, and often surprising stories. Tune in to their special blend of insight and curiosity here!

Diana and Raymond outside of the Thirdcoast Awards Ceremony at the Alhambra Palace in Chicago. We were reveling in the realization: the leaves are changing!

Collaborating when the cold winds blow...

One evening in Austin, the great Nathan S. Duncan and I set out at sunset to drive to West Texas. First we stopped off at an unnamed corporate craft store and got lost in their fake flowers for a bit. I do not recommend this activity before an eight hour drive. But, fortunately the miles passed quickly as there was plenty to discuss. We were headed out to make some kind of post-apocalyptic music video for the band Wae. Nathan had a vision and I was along to help as some kind of tourist on the edge of things.

In the days that followed, I became very ill and a sudden flash freeze overtook the Marfa area while a dust storm blew in. Needless to say conditions became quite challenging, but still we prevailed. Nathan managed to fly the drone in high winds and I braved the freezing temperatures to look mellow. All in all, it was an exercise in making the best of chance and circumstance and I am proud of the kaleidoscopic ride that ensued.

The Last Weekend to See: Sending and Receiving at Currents New Media 2018

Closing weekend of Currents New Media is upon us! In celebration and anticipation, here are a few stellar images by the intrepid Pete Trachy from opening weekend:

An installation becomes alive when people discover it. What has been a space of concentration and contemplation breaths with new visitors and their reactions. In Santa Fe, I was moved by the laughter and looks of surprise when a familiar place was named. People generally took to sharing the installation together. Countless couples as well as children with parents held one another as they became immersed in darkness with a single penlight to illuminate the web. Friends would leave and return a few hours later pulling another friend along who hadn't yet had the experience. 

I think the greatest thing about immersive work is the moment that it comes alive with people to experience it. On that note, I hope you can stop in for the last weekend of Currents New Media in Santa Fe this weekend if you can! 

Currents New Media 2018

After three days of install, the installation Sending and Receiving is finally up for Currents New Media Festival! I first visited this festival in 2016 and found it to be the most inspiring collection of New Media art I have ever seen in the United States. Two years later, I am truly honored to a be a part of the festival with Sending & Receiving, an interactive installation that first began in Austin, Texas in 2014. Four years later, working with a new set of Craigslist Missed Connections and custom-made light activated sound modules, I am really grateful for the time and the space to see a project through to a more refined iteration. What is more, I can't wait to have my mind blown by the projects I see taking shape around me. Many thanks to Mariannah Amster and Frank Ragano for steadily building such an incredible festival and community!

Ending Up

Dissertation Project Assembled and Sent to Committee!

Guess what?! I can see freedom! Last night I sent off the draft of my doctoral dissertation... a project that has taken me the better part of six and a half years to see through. I am so very thankful to be rounding the bend on this and finding rest and exploring new possibilities. Last night I dreamed of having a sugar cube fight, hovering over a steam bath, and tiny trapeze artists swinging from the ceiling... so anything is possible! I deeply appreciate everyone in my life who has withstood this storm beside me.

Where it Comes Together

One night, in January of 2016, in the midst of a torrential downpour, I slept in the parking lot of Desert Hot Springs just outside of Palm Springs, California. I had just picked up a rental van named Franky Boy from Inglewood and was on the way to Slab City to work on my dissertation project. Roads everywhere had become impassable with the rainfall and I figured what better place to sleep than the parking lot of a hot spring? After what had been such a dark and foreboding day, I awakened to the above view out the window. As I begin to move towards the end of this long process of dissertation research and writing, I think of the little moments like these that somehow get lost in the process but nevertheless are vivid reminders of being with this work. 

Finding Words in New Spaces

I have been thinking about how in the midst of a move, objects become almost abstract devoid of their place. When you pile things up, somehow it all just become stuff. Not usable or sentimental, but nevertheless there. I moved into a new space this week, one that needs more thought and work and time but yesterday provided a momentous occasion to get to know my new workspace. For now, here it is, my space to listen to spring arrive and sort out dissertation words and envision what is next.  

2,260 Feet Above Sea Level in the Ozark National Forest

Sometimes, you can catch the light just right alongside one of your favorite people and for a time the world becomes a stage. In late October of 2017, my dear friend Lauren Neal and I found one of these moments while on a writing retreat at White Rock Mountain in the Ozark National Forest. There are several cabins built in the 1930's by the Civilian Conservation Corps and just outside the door is a trail that goes entirely around the rim. In between the lichen-covered rocks that the mountain is named for are beautiful pavilions such as this one that look out over the top of Arkansas. It was a perfect stage for the occasion that we commemorated with this collage.    

Natural Forces at the Museum of Human Achievement!

If you are in Austin, please come out for the opening of Natural Forces on February 3rd at the Museum of Human Achievement. The opening starts at 7pm and goes until midnight. There will be a variety of experiences to wander amongst, musics, and even tarot readings. I will be sharing an immersive installation that explores the ways our perceptions about ourselves are reflected in the faces we see. I hope you can make it! 

Taken by dear Kenny Erickson in the Autumn of 2017 on Enchanted Rock, Texas. 

Shrimp & Petroleum Stories

Each year, in the southern Louisiana town of Bay City, there is a festival that celebrates the shrimp and petroleum industries. I just returned from documenting the festival for Southern Foodways and wow what a ride! The event was singular and enacted through rituals that tell a story of industry, community and gender in the region. I really enjoyed having the opportunity to talk with community members about their everyday experiences, memories, and observations. Truly there is so much living to share! More photos and audio just around the corner! 

In celebration of National Poetry Month!

Most of my leisure these days occurs amidst words. I am working to finish a large work of the past several years while starting to make plans for the future. In the midst of all this, Andrew Murphy at the Austin Public Library invited local writers to share work in celebration of National Poetry Month. Following is an excerpt from something I have been working on that I am happy to share with you: 

Opening at the Visual Art Center on Friday!

If you are in Austin, please come out for the opening at the Visual Art Center this Friday from 6-9pm. I will be sharing work from the project I have been working on with full time RVers over the last few years is in the Fieldwork space upstairs. Beyond that I am excited for what sounds like a great show with work by many others and Ann Hamilton will even be giving out 900-page photography books! What is not to lose? I hope to see your face(s). 

P.S. If you can't make the opening the show will be up until February 9th so don't you worry none!

Action shot from the install! A million and one thanks to Joey Russo for his intrepid ladder skills and overall install assistance!

Out 365 Windows Across America

Wow. The last few months have been a whirl but I am so excited to say that after sifting through about 365 photo submissions taken out RV's across the United States, I have finally narrowed down the selection to 50 images that will be shown later this month at the Visual Art Center. I am so thankful to everyone that submitted images! I wish I could show them all but due to logistical constraints that is not possible. A big reason is because I will be building custom light boxes to display each one! I hope this will create the impact of viewing the images like windows, since in fact these are the views out windows! 

Stay tuned for more images and updates on the installation soon!