PBO, packed by owner

I happened to be around when my sister and her family moved apartments last weekend in downtown Chicago. She successfully crowded three lives into two big moving trucks and had them transported 20 plus miles down the road to a location closer to her place of work. I photographed as the the movers shlepped the furniture and PBO (packed by owner) boxes into the new, more compact, space. The stories behind the contents in each box are infinite, which is why they are still claimed, crated, hauled and again put on display. This struck me as I thought of my many changes as I work to settle satisfactorily. 

I've been in Chicago for two weeks now. Before that I was living on a sailboat in Key West, FL. And before that I was in Salt Lake City, UT. Somewhere in between, and spanning anywhere from months to years, I've lived in Terre Haute, Ind., Athens, OH and Andros Island, Bahamas. With each move came the elimination of more stuff. These days I choose to travel with things I use routinely; my camera gear, my boots, and so on. The irony is that even when you put down your own baggage, there is someone else's to carry. In this instance, it's my father's.   

While looking to freelance as a photojournalist in the city, I'm restoring my father's apartment buildings. But getting to the actual bones of each room is the first trick. I have to unearth a century's worth of belongings first; be it his or his father's or his past tenants. What appears to have happened is that the hunt for specific items was cut short with every passing decade. Instead of finding what was lost, a new item was either purchased or scavenged and put in its place. The other day I thought of the one and only spoon I owned while living in Utah as I counted 44 of my father's snow shovels. And as soon as I find 44 shovelers, I can lay soundly in my bed knowing I'm prepared for winter.

mexico

The international understanding that befalls Mexico is a country eclipsed by rival drug cartels. This ongoing armed conflict is now saturating regions south of the US/Mexican border. And Durango, located in Northwest Mexico, is not exempt from the violence and intimidation of these groups. Within the last year, police have been kidnapped, local government officials have been shot at and rivals have been slaughtered and dumped in and around the city. 

Last month I spent nearly two weeks in Durango while working on my illegal immigration story. I stayed with a loving family and was welcomed into their lives. They baked me a cake, administered an IV when I was stricken with a 102 temperature from Dysentery and invited me to a Quinceanera (sweet 15 party). I can't speak Spanish and they knew little English, but we made out okay through our creative gestures. While I didn't witness the drug producing "Golden Triangle" fist hand, I came to understand that organized crime consumes most of the time and resources of the government, leaving the majority of the hardworking countrymen to fend for themselves. No one is spared from these drug wars. The youth, who are denied adequate education and healthcare, have a lifelong fight in achieving a comfortable life. But this truth didn't seem to phase them much. Instead of being joyless, they expressed a kind of triumph of hope over experience as they imagined their futures. 

key weird

I spent a few weeks in Key West, FL living on and off a sailboat. I was on when the weather was sufferable - usually before 6:30 am and after 8 p.m. - and was off when I wanted air-conditioning. In between I had the pleasure of meeting a cast of liveaboards and those skilled in their version of creative activity.

And Mallory Square was their spot.

Just like Chinatowns are the attraction to every American city, Mallory Square is a sensation to Key West. Vendors tempt watchers with painted paddles and trained cats. Here a couple gets ready for their sunset performance. They begin like every other night... muster at reverie by blowing a conch shell, keeping an edge by intermittently cracking a whip and culminating the show with sticking swords into a box occupied by the lady assistant. Some nights they make a decent buck - I think- but moreover I would have to say it gives them a kind of inheritance to what's touted as Key Weird.