Four new photography books, published in 2019. Available for purchase.
Flesh, booze, hogs, crotch rockets. When Bike Week rolls into town, there’s a thin line between iniquity and pitchin’ a wang dang doodle.
Oily sunbathers pack the sands like anchovies in a tin on weekends and holidays. Behold the pink, blistered tourist kids squealing with mock fear as they dash for shore, away from the tiny wall of whitewater inching toward their ankles.
Throngs of inevitably sunburned citizens pack the sidewalks along First and Second Streets North. They and the parade participants erupt with joie de vivre as float wheels begin to roll. Pride, patriotism, joy, silliness, and the surreal—there's something for all ages and mindsets. Except beer.
A spiritual tradition in India for thousands of years, the parade is alive and well in the steamy dog days of North Florida.