The Space Age

Rockets. Chrome. Big promises.

Everyone looking up at the moon. Looking away from the dirt.

But a camera doesn’t need a rocket.

A view camera stays grounded. Heavy tripod legs pressed into the caliche.

Out here, the real space age isn’t up there. It’s the open distance between Odessa and Midland. It’s the empty sky sitting over a pump jack.

Grounded space.

No chrome. Just rust and gravel.

It is enough.