"To love a place from a distance is to embellish it with memory, desire, and myth. Why Don't You Come Home is a fantasy, a lyric, and a document of one of several returns to the place where I grew up. It is part of an ongoing exploration of a South that is both familiar and strange, both real and imagined."
To witness the birds in mass is pretty invigorating, but I’m rarely confident about the relevance of any image when I’m making it, which is part of the charm for me in shooting film—the unknown caused by the delay between the exposure and the viewing of the transparency. I’m certainly not the first or last to photograph a flock of birds in the Delta, but I was pretty pleased when I first viewed the image in my studio in South Carolina.
We talk often about fearless writers. We use words like "brave" and "unflinching on book jackets and in glowing blurbs when the protagonists within enact dangerous behavior without moral-of-the-story appeals and sensationalized flourishes.
In "Sky Burial," recently published in the Oxford American's Fall issue, Alex Mar visits the Forensic Anthropology Center at San Marcos University (FACTS)—the largest of America's five body farms, where people donate their bodies to be studied for the benefit of science.
Steve Almond’s new book, Against Football, asks essentially the same question. How is it that a game which “in its exalted moments, is not just a sport, but a lovely and intricate form of art” also legitimizes, as he says, “a tolerance for violence, greed, racism, and homophobia”?