Head Shots In The Desert
The morning I arrived in Las Vegas, it was fifty degrees warmer than when I left home in the wee hours before sunrise. I was peeling off layers left and right, enjoying the warmth. And the sunlight.
Two days later, the temps had fallen a bit and we found ourselves an hour out from Las Vegas in the old ghost town of Nelson. I was again wearing my jacket, scarf, and hat. And enjoying free spirits who would climb on airplane wreckages and photograph me. Photographing them.