I went home to Ardmore, Oklahoma, for the holidays. When I'm back, I always try to find a couple of people to shoot with. I met up with a few this time and was able to make some images that I'm in love with.

I remember the first time I saw Dewayne. It was about fifteen years ago at a gas station called Karry-Out-Korner, a known haven for drug dealers. He was sitting in one of the seventeen different Cadillacs that he's owned throughout his life. My friend Junebug (to appear later in this blog post) popped out of my car, ran over to Dewayne's gold Dayton-rimmed 1983 Cadillac limo, and handed him some money through the window. Dewayne quickly handed Junebug a couple of small bags. Junebug ran back to my car, hopped in, and threw several plastic bags in my lap. It wasn't drugs. Nope. It was some of the best homemade beef jerky that I've ever tasted.

Dewayne sitting on the steps of his old, now vacated, middle school.

Dewayne was shot in the back by the police in 1968, has had seven heart attacks, lost his son to a gunshot last year, and most recently had a small stroke. He said "If I can make it through all that, shit I might as well start smokin' again" After 30 years off tobacco Dewayne figures it's alright to have a cig here and there.

Back to Junebug. If you look closely you will see a large 60 tattooed across Bug's adam's apple. That is for Rollin' 60's Crips. It's one of the gangs in Ardmore. You'll also notice that 'Fucc' on the back of his leg is spelled wrong. Crips spell words that have CK in them with CC because CK is an abbreviation that Bloods use for Crip Killa.

After spending time with Dewayne and Junebug, I spent some time with my mom. She really wanted to go look at this locally famous house on the Eastside of town. I won't describe any further, just check it out below and you'll understand.

So this very sweet 83 year old woman, Mrs. McMahon, has decorated her entire house by herself for the last 43 years. She gets on the roof and hangs all the lights and ornaments. Her husband takes it all down and organizes it for the following year, but she puts it all up!

She saw my Mother and I across the street taking pictures so she invited us in for a little chocolate and conversation. She said people always take pictures, but never get the entire house in the picture. I was only taking pics with my iphone at the time. So I told her if she let me make a portrait of her then I would come back the next day with my camera. The next day I came back and photographed the house and Mr. and Mrs. McMahon.

We spent the majority of that evening hanging with the McMahons. I may not miss a lot about Ardmore, Oklahoma, but I certainly do miss the hospitality. These people invited us in literally off the street without having any clue who we were and having no idea whether or not we were serial killers. Luckily for them, we aren't serial killers. Luckily for us, we met the McMahons.

Soooo yea...That is my hometown in a nutshell.