“Imagine Him ruling over this earth. That wisdom, that love, that perfection. Everything will be so right and so loving and so perfect.”
Seek.
“Y que yo he de decir? Que yo estoy cansado? Que el camino es largo y no se ve el fin?
Seek.
“I spoke to God today and she said that she’s ashamed. What have I become, what have I done?”
Seek.
“Better days lie ahead.”
The radio is as good a portrait as anything else—as indicative of who we are and how we live. “Heat wave! (And it’s starting to smell pretty ripe.) Be careful and stay indoors!” Christian rock, death metal, bellowing Latino deejays and creepy preachers (who, for some reason, I cannot shut off.) This is the soundscape of nowhere, a desert of boredom, the place where history happens somewhere else. I’ve spent the last seven years here, looking closely, listening carefully and growing to love this unforgiving place. I cannot reconcile the fact that the sublime lives alongside the unimaginable or that the myth of reinvention, the promise of something better, ended right here. These photographs and film stills describe a place that is not entirely knowable and a paradox that will never be resolved.
It’s the other side of the American Dream and it feels like home.
