In Texas, friendship is not a big thing; it's many little things. It's a welcome sign and an old motel key and a motorist lifting an index finger as a gesture of hello on an open road. Acts of goodwill cultivate personal joy, and in Turbines and Tumbleweed, artist Frank Eleveld says hello.
I met Eleveld a decade ago on Flickr browsing for pictures of West Texas. There I shared some of my own and chatted fellow photographers. To my surprise, one person stood apart, a photographer from the Netherlands with interest in Route 66. The distance didn’t matter, and I watched his coastal series: Above Middle Gray.
It is not easy photographing Texas from Europe. So Eleveld planned a route and made the journey. He pictured dust-blown towns and mailboxes and truck stops. He went beyond well-known attractions to an unpolished side of the High Plains and met Happy.
I care about the region. I remember rummaging in a camera bag looking for the perfect lens once feeling sad that the terrain was flat and uninspiring when I spotted a blade of grass—it twitched in the wind and brightened my day. Frank, congratulations on seeing the plains.