Empty lot

In suburbs like these, you need to find the places where people aren't expected to go, because everywhere else is meant and primped to be seen...brand new or pristine, somehow lacking in personality and completely uninteresting to look at, let alone reproduce on film. You must go poking around the alleys and empty lots, wandering along the railroad tracks.

I was riding my bike back from meeting with my canon at Caribou and I rode past a squirrel with its head blown off by a car, bones flattened. My guts had been twisting with emptiness and the world's strongest green tea already. I doubled back and left my bike on the sidewalk, took out my camera and arranged the squirrel corpse within my frame, more interested in its frozen dancing body than its gorily gone head. Its tail flapping gently in the wind. When I took my face away from my camera, there was a line of SUVs waiting for me. Suburban Mom in the first one giving me a look of disgust — Why are you holding us up? Why are you taking pictures of a squirrel corpse with its head blown off and its limbs arranged dancerly in your frame? Who do you think you are, standing here? Who do you think you are?











and This One for those who do not mind gory squirrel corpses