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“You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.”
~Theodor Geisel
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“Out of every one hundred men, ten shouldn’t even be there, eighty are just targets, nine are the real fighters, and we are lucky to have them, for they make the battle. Ah, but the one, one is a warrior, and he will bring the others back.”
~Heraclitus
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“The more I see as I sit here among the rocks, the more I wonder about what I am not seeing.”
~Richard Proenneke
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“There is one thing the photograph must contain, the humanity of the moment.”
~Robert Frank
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“If you haven’t fallen off a horse, then you haven’t been ridin’ long enough.”
Buckey was a real cowboy. He loved trail riding and he had a stable of horses that he took incredibly good care of. Sadly, he passed away not too long ago; I’m proud to have had the chance to ride with him and make this photograph.
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“Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.”
“If you haven’t fallen off a horse then you haven’t been ridin’ long enough.”
Today’s portrait, for ‘Portrait Month,’ is a gentleman I met in Tombstone some years ago. David was always – and I imagine still is – a very kind and soft-spoken man with a severe gaze that betrays his gentler nature. I enjoyed our conversations, and I’ve been following him in his feature-film endeavors. He certainly looks the part.
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What is there to say about Mark Pierce? The guy is a true original. A tattooed ruffian with a charming twang in his voice and a slow, smile sly that conveys an almost menacing confidence. He’s an alumnus of The West Texas Millionaires, a country group that calls Bisbee home, but he’s definitely got a punk edge. His torso is slathered in tattoos and he’s imbued with a country-punk style. Whether he’s slapping the stand-up base playing the fiddle, you’ll never mistake this gentleman as anything other than a showman.
These day’s he’s rockin’ a sizeable beard and is the proprietor or Bisbee Soap and Sundry.
You couldn’t miss him struttin’ down the road if you tried.
You can check out his shop’s page here.
You can check out The West Texas Millionaires here.
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No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.
~Heraclitus
During my time living in the more remote areas of Cochise County in Southeastern Arizona, I made it a point to walk along the trails that followed the San Pedro river. Depending on the time of year, different wildlife could be spotted, from roosting owls to large fish and frogs, as well as javelina, coyotes, and deer.
I could easily fill an album with photographs of the flowers, the driftwood, the butterflies and the beaver dams.
For some reason, this image always stood out to me.
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Glenwood is a small little hamlet in Catron County, New Mexico, less than an hour north of Silver City. Officially founded in 1878, fewer than two-hundred people live there today; the silver and gold rush had, once upon a time, attracted a healthy number of people looking to carve their way into the riverbeds and canyons to earn their fortune.
As part of the Gila National Forest, there are some pristine landscapes. There’s also a small little area known as ‘The Catwalk,’ a National Recreation Trail, which follows the route of the old pipeline used by mining operations along the side of Whitewater Canyon.
Little else is here save for abandoned houses and defunct businesses slowly being reclaimed by nature. Just my kind of place.
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Silver City, New Mexico is a special little town. It’s the kind of town my family would stay the night on the way from one destination to another during vacation. It’s the kind of town that begs you to get out of the car, stretch your legs, and walk around for a while, with a greasy-spoon diner and some art galleries to explore. It’s the kind of town you tell yourself “gosh, if I could only find t he excuse, I’d love to live in a place like this.”
Sadly, it is also a small town and opportunities are scarce.
Sadly, it’s the kind of town that’s easy to talk yourself out of ever moving to.
So, from time to time, I would find an excuse to spend the weekend here. A drive through the Gila National Forest with frequent stops to take photographs of the landscape and wildlife. Coffee shops and leisurely strolls downtown. I’m not sure if “The Drifter” is still there, but I’m guessing it is. I could look it up, of course, but I’d rather just find out for myself the next time I roll into town.
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