—there might be evil in the world, and human beings are destructive motherfuckers and there is not much we can do about that…But sometimes the dust settles, and even if it affects everything, even if it is in the dust and the air we breathe–even i fit kills us, even if it has a half life ten or a hundred times the life span of all of us; on a summer night in 1965 here was cotton candy, and pretty girls in red tights and a perfect white Buick parked near a brick wall and the perfect blonde boy taking silver grocery carts in, sometime near dusk

there were supposed to be 2k of these fotos of ten years taken all over America, taken in concentric circles outside of Memphis, where he has lived for most of his life, and other projects distracted him, so he never did the photos, but someone found them and reprinted them. Looking at them at 6am it is like the banalities of everyday life would save us from the apocalypse–like sodom and gomorroh being saved because the angels found not perfect men but perfect places.

and somewhere in all of this joy, my heart breaks.