March 13, 2017 – Tarahumara Woman

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The black and white “street portrait” is a staple in photographic expression. Many young photographers insist on moving to big cities so that they can wander the streets and try to capture poignant moments, unique portraits, weathered faces. Just like many of the textures I photograph, the object is to take the ‘everyday’ or ‘banal’ and figure out a way to transform it, through the camera lens, into something meaningful. With street portraiture, unlike photographing inanimate abstract details, the object is to try and tell a story, to find something emotional and authentic.

It’s not always easy. Life moves faster than one might initially think; put a camera to your face at the farmer’s market and try to make a good, candid photograph of even just one person. You’ll notice that everything around you is a whirlwind. Children run around, people walk into your frame, or people notice you and begin to behave differently (it doesn’t matter if they’re attracted to being photographed or repulsed).

This is probably my favorite portrait taken during this particular trip to Mexico.

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March 12, 2017 – Hangover Hospital

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It’s a funny name, for certain, but it works. This is an older sign, over a decade old, when American travelers were less cowed by news stories that scared them away from travel in Mexico. Once upon a time, Creel, Mexico, was a popular destination for American tourists; a great deal of the local economy relied on American travelers. The town is more economically depressed now than it has been in recent history. Fears of cartel activity, news stories about kidnappings, and general antipathy toward Mexico has had a significant impact.

But not for this traveler.

Hospital Paracrudos is in the heart of the town (you can see the railroad tracks in the background) and serves up fresh seafood, soup, and freshly cooked vegetables. It’s the first restaurant to open in town (most shops don’t even open until ten or eleven o’clock), and the interior is a huddled, wood-paneled little cavern of a place, with gas stoves steaming with boiling meat and vegetables. It’s dark, cramped, and small, feeling more like a tiny hole-in-the-wall bar, except that it serves delicious hot soup. I didn’t have a hangover when I wandered across the tracks one morning to see what there was to see, but I had an amazing hot breakfast in my dimly-lit seat, surrounded by hanging pots and pans, strings of chili husks, and bowls of chiltipin peppers.

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March 11, 2017 – Lake Arareko

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Outside of Creel, Mexico, is a curved lake surrounded by pine trees and bear-grass. It’s a bit of a hike from the town center, but worth it. Lake Arareko is one of the most peaceful places in the region. There usually aren’t too many people, and it isn’t overflowing with paddle-boats or kayaks, as one might expect at such a spot in the United States. Along some of the sand and dirt beaches are gatherings of Tarahumara woman, usually sitting on the rocks with toddlers playing in the dirt, weaving baskets to sell to tourists.

This young Tarahumara girl was throwing rocks into the water and amusing herself away from the group, and didn’t seem to mind when I took this photograph of her. Naturally, after taking this shot, she leapt from her perch and asked if I had any pesos. Instead of just giving her the money, I had her pick out her favorite basket (one that her mother had just finished) and I bought it. It sits on my bookshelf to this day, a small circular basket about five inches in diameter. It’s a great place to keep my cuff-links.

Side-note: film isn’t dead. This image was made with my old N80, a camera my parents gave me, using Kodak Portra film.

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March 10, 2017 – It’s A ‘Sin’

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While wandering around in Creel, Mexico, I gathered tons of images of posters, signs, storefronts, and interesting garbage. This one, obviously, is a play on words, as ‘sin’ in Spanish simply means ‘without,’ which is a radical departure from the English ‘sin.’ Nevertheless, I found the textures and layers of this weathered advertisement really dazzling. I know that minimal and semi-abstract imagery isn’t everybody’s particular cup of tea, but I know that there are some of you out there who understand.

I hope you like today’s ‘image of the day’ and scroll through other images from this sprawling project.

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March 09, 2017 – Rarámuri Boy at Lake Arareko

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Hiking out to the banks of the lake of Arareko, we met with a group of Rarámuri people. The women were huddled beneath the pine trees, weaving baskets while their little children played in the dirt. The young boys occupy their time climbing on the rocks and swimming in the water. This young lad took an interest in me, but we were only able to communicate in gestures and pantomime. He was excited to wander around with me and understood that we didn’t speak the same language, so our hiking experience was pretty silent.

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March 08, 2017 – Mexican Streetside

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For the life of me, I can’t remember the name of this small town. Somewhere about a hundred and fifty miles south of the port of entry in Naco Arizona (Naco Sonora). Cracked facades and faded paint jobs are common in these little towns. On the surface, these places appear inhospitable – and I’ve heard plenty of horror stories – but I’ve never had a negative experience in these places. People are friendly, the bodega owners are more than happy to take your money, and there’s always at least one fantastic restaurant or taco cart.

When traveling through the smaller villages in Mexico, there’s no “I just need to find a McDonalds” option. You pretty much have to trust the local food. Either that, or eat nothing but flamin’ hot cheetos and drink nothing but coca cola. And what’s the fun in that?

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March 07, 2017 – The Railroad in Creel, Chihuahua

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March in Mexico continues with one of my favorite, albeit simple, photographs.

The bus stop and train station is the hub in Creel, Mexico. The El Chepe train line travels east-west across the whole country, delivering goods, people, and fresh seafood. The town square is a stone’s throw away, along with restaurants, curio shops, and privately owned markets. Tarahumara families, usually dressed in their brightly-colored traditional clothing, are always in the town square selling their hand-woven bear-grass baskets and hand-woven garments. As tourism has declined (Creel used to be a popular destination for American travelers), these families have much less to live off of than they used to. Tarahumara fathers, usually wearing regular ‘jeans and t-shirt’ street clothes, are known to walk along the main roads with their youngest and cutest children, pointing out who the children should approach to beg for pesos.

There’s an alpine feel to Creel, surrounded by pine forests and canyons. At dusk, a haze of smoke settles over the town from the wood-fired stoves that residents use for warmth and cooking. The entire town smells like burning pine-bark. Life here is simple, and the people are incredibly friendly. There’s a reason why I’ve gone back several times.

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March 06, 2017 – Chihuahua

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My photographic method doesn’t change much, regardless of where I am. I try to approach every environment with curiosity, and my perspective has slowly evolved over the years, solidified. When I’m not photographing people, I’m always on the hunt for interesting textures and colors.

Traveling through Chihuahua, all of the old decaying adobe buildings and faded election campaign signs – painted on the sides of businesses and along walls – capture my attention. Everything here seems to be recycled, so it isn’t unusual to see 1980’s model cars and trucks, shops with a wide variety of VHS cassettes, and mountains of recycled clothing. Everything seems to carry some kind of story – some kind of history.

Nothing is polished and pristine and brand new. And I really like that.

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March 05, 2017 – Arroyo de Hacienda

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Slot canyons surround the edges of the Urique River, which winds through the tropical forests in the Copper Canyon region. Military macaws squawk from the treetops and wild fruit grows throughout the area. This image is only about a hundred yards into the canyon; on the reverse side, the canyon winds several miles deeper into the side of the mountain, where a small family of Tarahumara people live, raising chickens and crops in an open clearing.

My guide was a local Urique resident, woefully hungover after spending the previous evening drinking and celebrating at a local young woman’s Quinceañera. I thought, by the time I had made it this far into the state of Chihuahua, I was reasonably conditioned to make this hike without too much trouble. Tomás managed to make me feel like a weak and vulnerable kitten.

It was a rigorous hike. My two traveling companions tapped-out and headed back to the village only an hour-or-so into the canyon. I’m incredibly thankful that I stuck it out, even though I was somewhat hobbled by blisters the following day. Once we made it back out and onto the gravel road, we hitched a ride in the back of a pickup truck. It was the hottest part of the day, closing in on 115 degrees. I got back to the farm I was staying at, plucked a basket full of lemons, and hung out in the shade, slicing and juicing them into a plastic pitcher.

Best glass of lemonade I think I have ever enjoyed in my life, before or since.

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March 04, 2017 – Urique Rancher, Mexico

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This is a portrait of a rancher who lives on a small piece of land on the outskirts of Urique.

He was in good spirits, but unfortunately we weren’t able to communicate very clearly. He was friendly and shook our hands, and spat out words faster than we could comprehend. My travel companion, who is infinitely more facile with the Spanish language, explained to me that this gentleman had a speech impediment, a stutter, which made talking to him incredibly difficult.

Nevertheless, this man was all smiles – revealing a few missing teeth – and offered us room-temperature lemonade. Several chickens strutted around the threshold to his shack, and papayas dangled over the makeshift fence around the property.

It was a cool little place.

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