In my book, SIGHTED_The Records, there are two versions of the same shot. In one, several moons--or maybe I mean discs-- are clearly visible. In the other--thanks to the digital magic of gradient maps (do not ask me to explain)--the moons disappear, subsumed in a bland expanse of blue.
So, exactly what truth is out there?
I am an alien, a New Englander, raised with boutique spaces: hill here, field there. Now I am an emigre, a Westerner, zooming through a vast expanse. Who knew an orchard could be so big? Who knew a sky?
They say seeing is believing, but believing what?
Stories are a kind of map. Making them makes sense of what we're passing by. Landscape speaks in a thousand voices. All of them are partly true. I'm looking. I'm listening. Let's drive.
What's your landscape saying?
Preview the book SIGHTED_ The Records here
Visit the photo gallery SIGHTED