Land of rain and fog

I spent some time lurking on the side of a lonely road this evening...and standing in the middle of it.

but George Nelson withdraws...

photo by Emphatic Reprieve Photography

Back Home on the Farm.

Yesterday was spent on a big farm in rural Virginia..

 My kid, after browsing a giant field full of orange pumpkins, found two tiny white gourds and said,"I'm ready!" and trudged back down the hill alone with a gourd in each hand...and got back on the tractor. He knows what he likes, apparently.

photos by Emphatic Reprieve Photography

There goes the neighborhood.

There's really only one other house in town that's notably decorated this year...and after making it through the gaunlet of giant Halloween inflatables, I decided to take some photos.

I swear these people just buy anything Halloween related and throw it in their yard.

it's so tacky...and neat.

 

 photos by Emphatic Reprieve Photography

Sunday Alone

I'm a Sunday driver.

photos by Emphatic Reprieve Photography

The Hand.

 When I was growing up, we spent many years living in an old farmhouse amidst the West Virginia countryside...we had no cable and we cooked our meals and heated the house with an old wood stove in the kitchen. This place was very desolate and very quiet, and I remember an hour-long bus ride (at least) to get home after school.  My mother worked a lot during this time...and my brothers were older, with vehicles and lives of their own...leaving me (4th grader) to come home to an empty, old farmhouse in the middle of nowhere by myself. We also had two options when it came to getting from the 'main' narrow, back country road to our house...you either crossed the creek by foot or you crossed the old swinging bridge that hovered across that creek.  I hated that bridge (4th grader), it always seemed to be ominously towering over the dark water below...and it always seemed ready to snap at any moment. When I saw this photo of the bridge, if it weren't for the lack of an old, white house standing in the trees across that creek, I would have been certain it was the bridge that led to this childhood home of mine.

But every weekend, when we were all home, my mom would usually rent a movie from the local video store and we'd all huddle around our little 12" t.v. to watch it.  Once, near Halloween, she rented an old silly movie entitled 'The Hand'...and I will never understand why that movie bothered me the way that it did...but man, did it bother me...haunted me (4th grader). For weeks I was convinced that I would lose a hand during some horrible and traumatic childhood experience and that severed thing would come back to murder me and my family...for whatever reason a hand would want to commit such atrocities.  I can even remember there being a old leather glove in the weeds next to the field where my horse resided...and I made excuses about how I couldn't feed my horse for weeks because I believed an old evil hand was in that glove, waiting to take hold of me (4th grader).  

One day after school, I staggered across that swinging bridge...and as I reached the end I looked across to the front porch of that old, dark house...and there was something different...on the handle of that old screen door was perched a hand...a hand without a body.  On that cool autumn evening, I crumbled into a terrified heap at the foot of that bridge (4th grader)...I sat there sobbing as the sun left the sky at an early hour and there was not a soul for miles to help me in my situation.  I remember how cold it was on that bridge, the feeling of the air swinging around it, and hearing its old cables creak as my home, my solace was guarded by some disembodied appendage. I was stuck between two evils, but I chose the lesser of the two.

I'll never forget seeing the headlights of my brothers jeep thrashing across the creek as he drove into the yard, I was absolutely certain that in his haste, he was coming to rescue me from that God-forsaken hand. He disappeared for a moment and I heard his evil, maniacal laugh as he approached me with that stiff beast with 5 fingers. As I stood there shaking and wiping tears from my cold face, he stomped onto the bridge and threw that hand at me...I quickly grabbed it, realizing it was rubber... while my brother violently pushed me toward the house saying, 'get inside, stupid'


bridge image via SouthernVisions

October Country

This documentary first caught my eye last year...because of the title, naturally. But as I watched it, I became a little too fascinated by it. It's incredibly awkward and real, and reminded me so much of so many families I've known in rural West Virginia. It's that horrible train-wreck that you can't stop looking at, as you hate yourself for gawking.

Yesterday I met the Devil...

and his name was Clyde.

image via Emphatic Reprieve Photography

Education is overrated anyway.

Abandoned Junior College

Alderson, West Virginia.

Photo by Emphatic Reprieve Photography

Hollywood, West Virginia

Sometimes you just need to be in the mountains and partake of the earth...

Photo by Emphatic Reprieve Photography

Houses at Night

I adore the work of Todd Hido.

This photo reminds me of cool Autumn nights in Durbin, West Virginia...walking through those desolate streets and passing the lonely houses in a town that once was...

Wilson County

I just really like everything about this.

In July of 1940, Levi Simmons, an African American student of the Menchew 4-H Club of Wilson County, was awarded the 4-H Club scholarship to A and T College. He is shown in this black and white photograph standing in front of an acre of ripe corn which was one of seven projects conducted that year. In the photograph, he is standing with his left hand on a cornstalk which towers over him. His right hand holds a thick manila envelope. He is wearing a light colored,long sleeve, open collared shirt and dungarees with a belt.

From Learn NC

Kenny and his pumpkin.

Come home.

A perfect Halloween scene...

 

Purchase a print here.

The Self-Sufficient Life

I'm going to be honest, the series 'Doomsday Preppers' on the National Geographic channel irks the hell out of me.  Sure the world might end and/or become extremely horrible to live in and if that were to ever happen, why would you want to go on?  I wouldn't.  Furthermore, these 'doomsday' prophecies are all old news.  Folks stay shouting from their rooftops about 'signs, signs, signs!' Honestly, it would have been more believable when the plague was killing off thousands, or when Hilter had a death grip on humanity.  The problem is now, that every little Earth tremor or terrorist act, or rebellion again religion, or sickness is amplified and then pinged around in cyberspace or via cellphones until it becomes a looming and exaggerated terror which forces those to want to prepare and take shelter from the impending shit storm which is awaiting us in the future.   Now to get to my point, I've always admired those who have the ability and knowledge to live self-sufficiently.  Not to be confused with those who are simply preparing for catastrophe, but those who find the true beauty in living off of the land and working for their survival, passing on the knowledge to their children for the greater good.

Therefore you might find posts throughout this blog as how to go about living self-sufficiently and happily.  I didn't want anyone to confuse these posts with my wanting to 'prep' for some apocalyptic time, but I want to make this modern world a little less suffocating by learning how to live simply and beautifully.  

Enjoy.