America: Stockton California

An example of the deteriorating cities of America. Stockton was one of the first cities in California to officially declare bankruptcy, but this city's decline was well in the making quite some time ago. I went to Stockton with eyes full of diamonds, and well wishes. I was sent there to film a fight which would air at a later date on HBO. I was excited because not only had I not seen a fight in a while, but I also hadn't been behind a broadcast camera in an even longer time. When I arrived at the hotel, I was greeted by an electrically sealed door at the entrance to the lobby. Now, I'm not that well versed, but I have never seen this done before. When I asked the person at the courtesy desk if there was anything interesting close by that I could photograph at night I was told: “That's not a good idea. It gets pretty bad at night.” Not exactly a glowing endorsement. In fact I learned that the only places open in this city at night were the strip clubs.

So I waited until the morning came, and rose early with the sun to get some pictures when I came across the most peculiar thing. A giant radio tower, some 50 feet tall, tension wires and all, right next to two houses, and surrounded by apartment buildings. A lady saw me taking pictures, and asked me if I worked for the city. We exchanged words, and I learned that she had been finding dead birds next to the tower, and her mother was admitted to the hospital for migraines. She said the tower was put in when the city went tits up. Seems like Stockton's new gold rush is a land grab.

The thing I noticed in my walk about, was the lack of a police presence, and just how quiet the city was. Then I stumbled across the court house. It was empty. No one going in or out of the thing. It showed all the signs of neglect without the obvious boarding of windows. I later found out that among other things, the city had to let go of it's police force, and with it, it's courts, and in cases of dire emergency, they call in officers from other cities. The only security presence I found were rent-a-cops, and even they seem disinterested.

I had the distasteful pleasure of accompanying one of the photographers of this job to one of the aforementioned strip bars, in the guise of looking for a ring card girl. The humanity of these places. The desperation evident in every single eye on stage. The sheer business like attitude of some, I couldn't get out of that place quick enough. (Not a terribly big fan of these places as it is) If this was evidence of where the place had gone, and where it will soon be, Stockton in a few years will be a sink hole.
The silence, and darkness in the recesses of a place forgotten. Stockton is an interesting case study in the decline of the American city, and if it is any indication of what's to come, I pray for the future of Los Angeles.

America: Delaware

We start at home, as journey's often do. No matter how far we have come, or how great a distance we have traveled, life is a circular thing, and at one point or another we always find ourselves back at start. Time there had given me a bitter taste, but the absence of it left me wanting for the flavor.

I found myself back in Stanton, Delaware, a suburb just outside of the city of Wilmington. It's a place where people live, and do little else. A sleepy little town with plenty of trees to shade from the occasional sun, and plenty of mud to soak up the more than occasional rain. If I said Delaware appeared as a swamp, I doubt many could offer up an argument saying otherwise.

Yet you can find beauty anywhere if you want to, but you have to take the time to look. Maybe nostalgia is tainted by events of past, but time helps you forget wounds, if not heal the scars.



I lived not far from the sight of this eerie looking shack, but never paid it much mind. For one, most of the summer it was completely overgrown, and the golf course that surrounded it must have not had it in it's budget to trim things a bit. For two, well I never noticed anything compelling about the ugliness of the Delaware swamp. There is something neglected, and sorrowful about this place that never struck me at first, but after all these years is rather apparent to me now. It represents neglect. It shows me that at one time there was beauty in this place, but that neglect, and hobby has led to its sink into the mired land.



On a back road was an overpass which, if you slowed down, had a railroad running next to a lake. I stopped to walk the trail, and saw these wonderful colors existing in harmony next to one another, as complimentary colors often do. Delaware's economy is based on many things, but most of all shipping, as most of America's largest businesses are headquartered in Wilmington. The tracks are the veins in the body leading throughout the state, connecting us with other markets, cultures, accents, and ways of life.

I took a turn to find this.



A place for everything, and everything in it's place. The thing that strikes me most about Delaware is the great stretches of lakes, and flowing water that runs through it. As a native, I feel we are both blessed and cursed by it, because no matter how beautiful the sight may be, the reality is different. We do not drink our water. I know that to most, especially those of us who live in California, this is not a shocking statement, but I do not stand alone in the thinking that Delaware has some of the most polluted water in the eastern seaboard. Not a stretch of water in Delaware goes unpolluted by many of the nations leading chemical companies, none-the-least Dupont. There's a lack respect we have for our own water, and it appears we believe it to be trash in, and trash out.

Except the trash flows back into us with some pretty abhorrent results.



Another source of worry in Delaware not only comes from the ground, but also falls down upon us from the air. Our skies are often swollen with rain clouds, but the trails started popping up in the 80s as far as I can remember.



Barn. It's an old one too, from what I understand dating back a hundred years or more. It still stands in working condition (save for a roof) and well kept for a place that is no longer used, and doesn't act as any official Delaware landmark. I lived down the street for years from this thing, and never took a sidelong glance at it until I picked up a camera, and things suddenly began to take on new meaning.

So I mentioned beauty. I believe that works of poetry, and words of elegance strung together as iridescent pearls are beautiful, and to me, there is nothing more beautiful, and tragic as an organism destroying itself out of sloth, or gluttony. Delaware, the first state, is old, and it wears it's wrinkles well, but it will wither, and die like everything in life. In it's representation of our sloth, indiscretion, and indifference, Delaware is art. And art is beautiful.