Sometime during my undergrad years, I read Jack Kerouac’s On the Road. (Kerouac) It took longer to get through than I usually take to read a novel and I didn’t have the epiphany that I hear about most people having after they read it. It did however, make me want to head west and I really wanted to pick up a hitchhiker.
Kerouac’s autobiographies are more rebellious than I care to be. There is always a sense of fleeing from home and to live in bohemian and then heartache with the return to the east coast. Where as, I sometimes get more excited to cross the Ohio border entering the state than when I leave.
Even though I didn’t connect to the story as I thought I would, I still fell in love with the romanticism of it. The thought of heading to the road without a plan and just the idea of a destination made me want to walk out my door and stick my thumb out. Without having the nerve to do it, I decided to take the car instead.
I have travelled around the United States by car and documented my journey through the use of analog cameras. I bring home my stories and photographs. What fills the spaces between my fine art photographs are photos and stories from road
