"I only hope that Heaven has good coffee and lots of crappy, ugly places to photograph."A few years ago, I found myself in Needles, California, with my friend Bruce. We were on a road trip looking for ugly places to photograph. The good kind of ugly. The Jeff Brouws kind of ugly. The ugly that makes you gasp and say, "I looked but didn't see the beauty until you showed me in your photo."
--My friend Bruce
(Jeff Brouws, if you read this, Bruce and have this sick love for you that makes our teeth tingle.)
With Google Alerts. You never know who is reading your blog.
This is a typical scene of Bruce and Janice out taking photos in the desert:
That's Bruce setting up a shot on the right and my car on the left.
We were taking photos of the ultimate getaway: A trailer in the middle of nowhere. Awesome.
Back to Needles, California. Needles was once a one horse town and now it is a one hotel, one gas station and one garage town.
The garage was beautifully ugly.
We met the mechanic and his dog.
We mentioned to the mechanic that we were looking for old cars to photograph. He smiled, hopped in his truck and yelled, "Follow me!" So we did, thinking he'd take us to a used car lot or something. But we became suspicious when he drove us down a very dirt driveway into the desert.
I started to get nervous and I mentioned this to Bruce.
"What could happen?" he said.
We laughed. Nervously.
Turns out there were old cars behind this hill, we took our photos and the mechanic was super nice.
That's Bruce again. It takes him forever to get a shot.
This is not the beautiful kind of ugly. This is just ugly.
This, too. Just plain ugly.
Our mechanic/possible serial killer got a call about a "car" that needed to be "towed" and he left.
As he peeled off down the dusty road, Bruce turned to me and said, "Could we ever be dead right now."