Railcars, 1-5

The tracks in Missoula are like an airport inter-world—clean and quiet with just a few sounds: gravel crunch between the pads of my dog’s feet, wind channeling between rows and lines of trains; the clanking of logging cars coupling. And then it’s quiet, sounds stop in between rail timetables. Car rows are filled with the distant footsteps way down the line. On this day, the light was terrible. It was raining and cold. I received permission to walk this stretch of tracks but I was weary of security, police; crackdowns and the trickle of the homeland security border effect. But no one came. A new diesel locomotive passed by; the driver waved. Occasionally I would look back, expecting to see someone. I never did. Wood smoke from the edge of town drifted in. I thought of the last of the fall harvest; chips of flaking paint from the cars moved like the last bit of harvest I never quite got in. More cars passed by, one piled with engine blocks, maybe keeping an industry alive somewhere. I worry about railroads and the industries they’ve always represented—especially agriculture and logging. We’re so dependent on this transport. My images are dependent on things like this: this economy, these tracks, roads, safe flying space so I can get to places and tell stories or maybe, sometimes, I just want get to a place where there is an end to all these roads and tracks. I worried; I kept walking the tracks. I stopped and looked at all the cars within a couple of miles. I photographed ten; I wondered what would come out of these cars, tracks, industry. I had no idea if I would find meaning for these images in the rain. The images became my questions; the wind amplified the intensity. I don’t have answers I like. Right now the point is we keep walking. Sometimes we raise pens, voices, cameras, listen for sounds, even if they are lonely, look through a grainy grey sky seeking color, light, labyrinths of solid steel cars that stops driving weather, becomes a resting place for sore backs. It feels good, cold, solid, alive. I kept walking, not sure where photography or these particular images would take me. My husky was way too far off; I couldn’t tell if she was looking back anymore. I raised the camera. I wasn’t either. These images are crops of the original negatives to the rough dimensions of railcars. The ten images are taken from 10 different railcars made from two separate prints (see next image). Prints are available either together or seperately. Printed as two 8x10, 11x14, 12x18 images. May be mounted together on mattboard and weathered metal.