Solo Date
The longer I live here, the more I can name. A carport. A screen door. A Waffle House at three a.m. And the more names I learn, the more layers I find between me and the things they belong to.
Nobody has asked me to leave. Nobody has asked me in.
So I stay where I'm standing and photograph whatever gets through.
The stamp in my passport says I was admitted. It does not say I was invited. Most of these pictures are taken from the space between those two words.
Even the sea stops at the edge.













































