The Coast
East Hampton’s Magical Mysts
Worked a StudioBooth job at this massive house out in East Hampton last week. Got a breather too in the mists at the beach, niiiice.
Across The US in Eight Dayz
Long overdue update on where I am and where I’ve been.
Right this moment, I’ve got deviation and shibuya kickkin’ in the speakers as I drive cross-country on the Gumball 3000. I’m photographing and writing about my experience for PUMA.
The simple idea of crossing the US in 8 days blows my mind. It’s like entering an extended dream. I have only just tasted each stop and it’s time to go to the next. Very difficult to orient yourself. The photographs just unfold in front of me. You can probably tell that I’m writing this from the front seat as the trees fly-by, thick with vines, hiding the gators beneath.
Catch up with my travels here:
http://www.pumamotorsport.com/category/features/gumball-rally/
Below is a post I put up this morning about an experience in Arizona:
Burned by the AZ Heat:
Arizona can be a very unfriendly place… maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s the lack of anything interesting at all in the long stretches of I40 that seem to weave endlessly through the desert flats. It was our unpleasure to find this out firsthand in a run-in with AZ’s less-then-kind policia. As photographers it’s our duty to make good photographs. It’s what we do. In making steady attempts on this mission, we might extend ourselves beyond normal conditions. It just so happens that as fellow Gumballers come flying by there is a brief moment to be captured by extending oneself outside the normal confines of your vehicle, be it a window, sunroof, open trunk… you get the drift. It was at just such a moment that we were welcomed by the red and blue lights and mandated to pull to the side. On a normal day, it would have been a warning… but this was a day of alpha-male, chest-pumping, mouth-foaming, police-testosteronizing, I’m-going-to-throw-the-book-at-you-to-prove-I-am-a-man-because-I-can. So they did, a BIG BOOK was tossed at our heads, and we were wearing seatbelts like good citizens and could not duck. Long-story short, they took our beloved Burban and left us stranded in none other then Winslow, Arizona… which has an Arby’s, Motel 6, and that’s about it.
Marco gets “the shot”
Mr. Cop says GAME OVER
Trying to reason with them… does not work with mamals of limited brain capacity
Welcome to beautiful Winslow.
Irwin the tow-truck driver was a good dude. He would take us to the Motel Six and wait patiently as we unloaded.
We were fools for agreeing to haul the Fuel Girls luggage across the state! Left with a pile of bags six feet high, not just any bags, leopard print with pink skull and crossbones. I’m assuming that’s why we were getting some looks in Winslow.
We called Mario to come back and scoop Marco to take him on to Santa Fe with as much luggage as possible. But Maseratis have small trunks. No dice.
Left to die in Winslow.
Good bye to the beloved Burban….
After much debate and back and forth, we decided that in the spirit of the Gumball there was no holding back. We would rejoin the rally at any cost. A few calls later and a couple of hours of waiting and Levi showed up with his Van to take us toward Albuquerque. One thing I must say, is that regardless of the police officers’ behavior, I will remember the kindness of the people of Winslow, the manager of the Motel 6 let us relax in the lobby to get out of the swelter (she also offered to drive us in her minivan after her shift! but we were able to get a taxi to avoid ultimate late-night adventures in unknown vehicles), Irwin was relaxed and cool as we got our gear out our car before a last goodbye, and Levi the cab driver was extremely accommodating.
Waiting in the middle of the desert…. nothing but stars and dirt.
Luckily my boy Andy lives in Santa Fe. When he heard we were stranded all I got is “what do you need,” which is exactly what I needed. He hopped in the truck and headed out to meet us halfway. Big up to Andy for the good look. We would probably be dried up bones in the sand if it weren’t for him.
Smuggling leopard print and pink baggage.
Beautiful Albuquerque.
Hotel El Dorado in Santa Fe… RELIEF! 3am, but we made it.
Good riddence.
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