RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition. He does have an amazing PATREON, but also *normal* ARTIST WEBSITE too.

Tuesday, May 15

PP: Part Eight

So I went to this demolition derby outside of Harrisonburg last weekend, but they never got it started fast enough, and I had to leave at 1:30 or so to make it to my oldest daughter’s ballet recital at 3 pm in Charlottesville, plus had to buy flowers because every little girl doing ballet on a stage in front of strangers has watched enough Angelina Ballerina in her life to expect some goddamned flowers after the performance. Well, it was hard to want to go talk to people at the demo derby to get pics, because a lot of the people had mad angst, which is why I guess they enjoy wrecking cars into each other on purpose. However, this car had a really old guy dressed like he wanted to shoot Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda, and two younger kids, and I imagined they were grandpa and grandkids, and there were red painted antlers on the roof and that weird shiny confederate flag helmet, and they seemed like really great guys to talk to more, but I was afraid they thought I was some sort of stupid fag with my Polaroid camera and dreadlocks, so I wandered off before the old guy thought I was Dennis Hopper or Peter Fonda.

These two kids saw me taking instant pictures, so rolled up to ask if they could have one. Young redneck princesses with no shame to ask some strange freak dude to take pictures of them for them to probably tack up on their wall at home or put in a shoebox. I doubt these chicks even know about myspace or the Insane Clown Posse or probably not even about how you get herpes. It made me love them, not in a creepy older dude way but in a happy to see such simplicity in such a screwy hyper-speed modern world way.

There’s nothing really fancy about this little Chevy, except I was awestruck by it’s shiny chrome rims, it’s well-waxed blue paintjob, and that weird sun visor it was sporting outside of some garden center along the road. So I pulled over and took a picture while some old folks stared at me like I was Osama Bin Laden.

This is actually the picture that made me decide to buy a regular camera to start making prints from (old school regular, not digital robot regular, because I have one of those stupid bitches already), because this chick was stoked I was gonna take her picture and was beaming even more cutesy pre-algebra class-like, but the Polaroid wouldn’t snap, so she toned down her made-up perfect beauty by the time my button finally clicked. I love this girl. Seriously, I do.

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