The America That I Know

This photo series bears witness to coming of age in west America—thinking about freedom, adolescence, and the labors of love that unify us on the frontier of this country.

These images were taken over the course of 2017-2019, primarily in small towns across Texas, Colorado, and roads that go in between.

The America that I know is the highways on which I spent hours driving endlessly to see a partner and gaze at them adoringly through a sedan window instead of a screen. It is seeing his grandpa get a haircut on the driveway, and my friends kiss on the back porch at a house party. The America that I know is grasslands that cushion you while you bask in the sun after a long ride and remember your impression long after you're gone. It is the fear that causes my friends to embrace before taking a leap off a cliff and the courage another clings to before she streaks the lawn. The America that I know is the gentle reassurance to the draft horse before a long day of work; the forgiveness you grant yourself when you bleach your hair badly in a lonely apartment. It's the tiny churches you take shelter in when you’re lost, and it’s finding your neighbor’s glare in a strange pond. It is knowing the sun sets differently in your hometown but remembering the same warmth states away when you're with someone you need. The America that I know is being overcome with emotion, but grounded by the land you’re standing on.

This photo series bears witness to coming of age in west America—thinking about freedom, adolescence, and the labors of love that unify us on the frontier of this country.