The colors in Phoenix were so great. Everything was colored like an 80’s movie. Plus Phoenix residents definitely have a certain kind of flair when it comes to landscaping. We’re talking colored gravel + christmas lights year round. I loved it! I would like to go back and photograph everything, all the time. The air was THICK with the smell of orange blossoms. I never got tired of that smell… gorgeous. No wind, no bugs… only strange colors, happy retired people, and this crazy kitschy sense of altered reality, kind of like Las Vegas.
Maybe Phoenix is a contact zone, because of the strange combination of old white people, the Mexican laborers who will build their houses cheaply, and Arizona’s crap immigration laws. Maybe all contact zones are good places to make art. Lately I’ve been wondering if it’s possible to accidentally land oneself in a sort of Perma Contact Zone. If you spend long enough in a period of flux or transition… is it possible to forget what normal is? Here I feel the need to say “interstitial zone”, and give a shout out to author William Gibson, who finds a way to work that phrase into every chapter of every book he writes.