back west: 2011 – 2017

“We have to stumble through so much dirt and humbug before we reach home. And we have no one to guide us. Our only guide is our homesickness.”

– H. Hesse ‘Steppenwolf’

By 2011, I’d made it back from the east but just barely. In Amarillo, I stopped to fill up my tank and found that someone had hacked my debit card and drained my checking account. Fortunately, I had a little cash from a side job but I rolled into Morro Bay on an empty tank, an empty belly, one cigarette and zero dollars. Needless to say, it was not a glorious homecoming.

But I got on the best I could and rented a small studio and went about the business of pulling my life back together. I found work when needed, processed piles of pictures from the road and did my best to avoid the synthetic necessities I’d woefully come to depend on. It was not an easy time.

Black Hill Gang #316
Morro Bay, California 2011

But again, another ‘one’ day in my ratty chair, mindlessly staring at the kitchenette; I saw window light streaming in and cooking a blue glass bottle I’d gotten as a gift from my Aunt. I watched it stand there like a bright, proud beacon spreading crisp blue light across cabinets and countertops in scattered, prism-like streaks and I thought – Well okay, there’s that.”