We often found ourselves a wrong turn away from entering 'The projects' when roaming Texas soil. I gazed at the scene from afar curious as to how it might frame. There's a finite amount of time you can stare at someone before they walk away, howl abuse or approach you with curiosity. We walked over and introduced ourselves. The group sat in a loose semi circle and the sound of an old radio came from the lap of an elderly gent in a wheel chair. A couple of them were smoking and drinking from golden cans. He warmly entertained us, leaning on the balcony with a sharp gaze and we spoke about the area. They were obviously curious as to why two blatant tourists were roaming a small ghost town and sporting expensive cameras on display. We spent about an hour chilling with them and snapping as the light began to fade. I wish I could remember his name (it's written in my note pad that seems to have disappeared). He was enchanting and gave us a clear warning not to explore the area further. As the sunset we headed to the wagon leaving behind a path we were curious to tread but too afraid.
Another image from the shoot with Lucky's grandfather. Silently he attended to the clocks that were coating the kitchen table. A slither of light darted through the window and I watched him with intrigue as he gazed at each clock, delicately analyzing each part. Despite his English being as good as my Romanian I felt at ease and he was so patient as I backed into the windows sill and balanced on one leg.
This week I've been hacking The Photographer's Gallery's Instagram account so slide over and have a peek, as the archive of images will help you procrastinate through the last bit of your Friday