U.S. 91--Idaho 1956

Robert Frank shot this photograph on U.S. 91 in Idaho, and well, the process is right there in front of you, isn't it? A moment, captured. It's black and white, grainy, and feels so immediate, like a quick glance out the window. The car’s a blur, suggesting movement, speed, a life in transit. But then, your eye settles on the roadside, on this little cluster of makeshift crosses. They're stark and simple, like punctuation marks in the landscape. That contrast gets me. The way the fleeting car and the stillness of the crosses create a sense of tension. It’s the texture of life, the grit and the glamour, all mixed up. It's a poignant, quiet moment, but it speaks volumes about life, death, and the American road. It makes me think of Walker Evans, who also knew how to find poetry in the everyday. Art is always a conversation, isn't it?