A gallery from the salt flats
Twelve hours, one horizon, no shade. A set from the flattest place either of us has stood.
Twelve hours, one horizon, no shade. A set from the flattest place either of us has stood.
One roll of film, one grey morning, one stretch of shoreline that refused to be boring.
A short piece about the exact place a road stops being a road, and why I keep driving to find it.
Twenty minutes of impossible colour, a borrowed tripod, and every fisherman in the port wondering what the tourist is doing.