After looking at my brother and brother-in-law's photography of the secondary town we grew up in, I felt compelled to add my two cents to the equation: Totowa and the surrounding areas of northern New Jersey are a literal gold mine of photographic opportunity. The strangeness is readily available, and the light in the evening provides a lucidity reserved for odd dreamers.
These photographs, as poorly made as they seem, are what Lu and I saw for our short stay in the Armpit Of America.
2 comments:
That Fucking guy's Italian Flag ends up in so many pictures...I guess infamous is better than being never famous at all.
That guy's gut is likely in many more photos.
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