Americana

Throughout my childhood, I often spent my summers at my grandparent's residence in Illinois, and the rest of the year back home in the state of Washington. On occasion, I would take a family road trip across the United States. While sitting in the back seat, resting my head on the side widow of my parent's Ford Explorer, I would gaze out into the distance beyond the open highway. In my line of sight would be rusted cars acting as lawn sculptures in little rural towns, billboards preaching about Jesus, while another promoted gambling, and paint chipping off a house once adorned with a white-picket fence. These roadtrips gave me a window into the essence of an America that seems to have been forgotten. One whose heyday has long since passed, and are now only fleeting images out of a car window.