Someone told me that Midwesterners carry this belief that the greatest destination always exists somewhere else, even if they are already there. My suitcases are not near large enough to cover that kind of wardrobe requirement.
These photographs negotiate a paradox of desiring to appear as folkish and cosmopolitan. Romanticizing both the country and the city, I encounter an intersection of class and culture through objects I own within familiar surroundings. Attempting to glamorize this lifestyle to myself, I become caught in the middle of what I remember to be and what I desire to become. I am left seeing myself as a fool - a result that forbids the possibility of either illusion.
























