The summer of 2020 was the summer of the road trip. We weren’t going to let it pass without getting away after months of stay-at-home life. Along with another Covid-free family, we planned a loose 4500-mile route through Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, South Dakota and Utah. We rented a RV, jam packed it with groceries and supplies (and my cameras), and hit the road with four adults, one teenager, one baby, two dogs, a full bike rack and very few reservations.
It was a breath of fresh air to be out seeing new people and places — and to be creating new work that was both personal and meaningful. The pandemic really shines a spotlight on what you have and don’t have in your life. I have felt so grateful for my family and friends and home. On the flip side, I have sorely missed being out in the world, interacting with the endless variety of humanity, creating self-guided work from the heart.
The open road brought new life to my body and mind. I felt like a hunter — hyper aware, watching for those moments, shooting with intention, working the moments and juxtapositions until I had something.
I felt like I was capturing not just what we saw, but what it was like. I also pushed myself in terms of visual mood and language.
While my commercial work tends to have pop and contrast and clean color, here I worked with exposure and color grading and reduced contrast to bring out more mood, tone, emotional range, a painterly feel. If you have a few minutes, the series is a photo essay and should be seen as a whole.I began this project without knowing what it would be. Only about 1/2 to 2/3 through the trip did I see the throughlines in what I was capturing, and did I feel that I was creating a series that could hold together as a whole. Once home, after many editing and sequencing passes, I started thinking about a title that might encapsulate the project. I wanted to convey not only that it emerged from a road trip, but that it offered a series of vignettes that show something about this country. “American Window” seems to carry that. There’s metaphor in a window. It’s a view, an opening, a portal through which lies something more. It offers a framed glimpse into what’s out there. Hopefully this series resonates with others.
SIDE NOTE:
I captured some of these images with Moxie, our baby who was seven months old at the time, strapped to my chest. Turns out, Moxie loves a road trip. She babbled and panted excitedly every time we left the RV to see new places and people. Whom you travel with is as important as where you travel to, and she was a sunny, funny travel companion.
