I like shiny cities, buildings arching up into the sky like they could own it, the thrum of the city underneath my feet as I pound the pavement in search of the next adventure. Cites like NYC, San Francisco, Boston, they’re my jam. I come alive with all the options, all the people, everything at your fingertips in a second.

But.

Dusty roads, quiet streets lined with poplar trees, backyards with splashing plastic pools, the smell of gasoline just faintly lighting up the air, it’s in my blood too.

Texas has it’s fair share of shining cities, architecture surreal and god-like to the extreme but it’s the little towns that fall off the edge of the map, thats where I feel most calm and able to breathe. I like the backroads that feel like you could drive forever ever ever and ever and never even leave the state. I like the faint smell of petrol almost anywhere you go in these places and I truly adore all the classic cars that people just leave where-ever, me and my photographic longings could spend hours driving these backroads and sometimes my weekends disappear while I do just that.

~m