Monday, November 3, 2008

I went to mississippi and took zero photographs

middle of last week I get a call from chris miner asking me if I want to come to a party in northwest mississippi. it's a one-year anniversary party for chris and his wife, and there are going to be about 40 people there that I will definitely not know. I thought about it for a few hours, then called chris and said "I'm in".

so after the stellar halloween extravaganza at clint and liz's place where I dressed up in disguise and nobody recognized me (that's me with jon black), and their front porch tragically collapsed, I went home got a few hours of rest, and hit the road for clarksdale, mississippi.

it was a good weekend. it was a lot of work, spending a weekend with people I do not know. but chris has interesting, thoughtful friends, and the weekend was full and went by quickly. I was in the most amazing place. this old cotton gin in the middle of the mississippi delta converted into a sort of motel. we slept in the old shotgun houses that lined the property, and I spent the night by the fire, looking up at the millions of stars that I never usually see.

the mississippi delta is an eerie, haunted place. this time of year, the roads are hemmed in by cotton fields in full harvest. it's as if a light snow just hit the entire place. the fields that used to be work for thousands of people are now ravaged by massive machines, loudly and awkwardly shredding their way across the endless rows of white.

I saw all these great images. the empty towns where the people have left. the homes and barns, abandoned and falling into ruin. the giant machines eating their way through the fields. the cypress trees in the swamps. the endless, straight highways and the expected crossroads where two lonely roads collide.

for those of you who don't know who chris miner is, he is an artist who lives in jackson. he's been all over, done all sorts of work, but what he is largely known for in my circles is his music. we sing a lot of his songs at red mountain. I sing a lot of his songs to myself.

it was a good trip. I'm glad to be home. zed missed me.


Liz said...

you need to bring zed over soon so i can give him a good squeeze.

and as a sidenote: have you ever read farenheit 451? the way you talked about the cotton harvesting really reminded me of how ray bradbury writes.

and yes, sometimes life is sweet and for those small moments i am so very thankful.

Anonymous said...

you and your dog kinda look alike.