Nameless streets, no lines denoting sides. Down the window slides. The deep expectant inhale muddy with the decay of the place – almost overwhelming on the beach. What one presumes is delicate white sand crunches under feet, or thumps like a grave, giving way to realization.
Tilapia line the shore, some fresh, others picked to bones by the lazy gulls. A brown body of water, small enough to see hazily to the other side, large enough for the moon to throw waves through. Judgements surface – going ankle deep in rib cages and cartilage. But other than this – the undeniable reality – how is a fine, golden sand different? Maybe it’s not, but it doesn’t remind me.
All images captured on Fuji 400H 120 color film.
Please note: most images posted from this roadtrip will be available for purchase. You can check out the new contact/purchasing tab (or click the blue lettering) for information.