I spent my growing-up years surrounded by the stuff I photograph today. These things didn't seem interesting in those days — it was my reality and no more fascinating than the inside of my own house. Then, I left rural Kansas — physically, mentally, and for a long time. I suppose it was necessary to build a new reality before I could see the scenes from my youth as beautiful in their own patched-up, rusty, peeling, corrugated way.
A few times a year I go back to rural Kansas with the feeling of visiting an old friend. When I look at it my way — through a camera lens — it doesn't look any different, but I can see it much better.