Nothing in the Desert
Friday November 13, 2009
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Ask any desert dweller, and they can tell you the desert is a unique place. For better or for worse, desert life is harsh, beautiful, lonely, and filling.




Overunder and Yale Wolf took to the desert of Nevada. “Driving south following the beautiful Sierra and Carson range into Gardnerville, Topaz, and Bridgeport without CDs, mixtapes, or iPods,” muses Overunder.

“Just the rattling windows not fully sealed. Yellow cottonwood leaves along 395. Home made signs with chipped gold leaf. Gas station honey packets on squaw bread. 12 pack of Coors from the local butcher. A hot spring filled with residue from the hands of painters just done from painting the inside of the Bridgeport jail. Juvenile vandalism with a hint of Monet's lilypads. Butch Cassidy and the breakdance kid. Keeping secrets from the boss but advertising on the new Times Square (the internet).

“Oh the desert. My favorite silent friend. Never there to ask or tell or beg or approve. You just are and that's what makes you great. Thanks.”

Check out Yales' work if you get a minute. And more on Overunder’s flickr.

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