“You will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart will always be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place.” – Miriam Adeney
My dad has an eye for fast cars and freedom. For as long as I can remember, his brain has been a database for anything with an engine dating all the way back to the 1930's. He'll see my eyes glue to the glory of an old car as it zooms past us on the highway and he'll blurt out,
"That's a 1973 Alfa Romeo, baby."
He knows I'm waiting for his opinion on the mechanics because he's always got one.
"Expensive to keep up, parts are hard to find."
he'll feel my energy drop.
"Sorry, baby. It is beautiful."
Over the years, his love for old cars has become mine. I see beautiful bodies like this black caddy and can't help but want to photograph them.. I dream about driving fast down some dirt road in the valley. Puffing cheap Winston cigarettes and changing the cassette tape every 10 miles. Old music, soul music blasting through the old stereo.
I think there is a part of everyone of us that craves fast cars and freedom. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't listened to Tracy Chapman's fast car and thought about leaving town once or twice. There's nothing like being behind the wheel of one of these bad boys and feeling like you can be somebody, anybody. That kind of feeling our Mama's never wanted us to find but our Daddy's always knew we would. I guess that's why my Dad teaches me about these cars and lets me drive them. He knows I'm hell-bent towards freedom.