For 169,000 Miles I Was Not Here
Subconsciously I have catalogued the routinely vacant places that dot the little traveled roads and highways I have driven for years while going to see and then returning from visiting family and friends. These are the in-between places. The places that are not thought of as being on public view but are, usually at 55mph. Like a photographic snapshot of a friend in between awkward facial expressions it happens all the time but usually goes unnoticed. These landscapes are the snippets of waking dreams, the emptied out places who's inhabitants are unavailable to tell their stories. So these places must tell their own stories through their simple presence.
