Throwing Hissy Fits

Giving a deeper dive into my photography and the feelings behind it. Just me the road and 35mm film Sony mirrorless Digi cam

[backroadsbandit]

Her lover was a Father to me.

I was alone with nothing but my truck, my music, and my cameras. Riding for hours a day blowing through gas just to see it all. One night I stumbled on the Bruce Mansfield plant something felt different. This drive was cold and seeing this location for the first time was a warm greeting with a type of authority that only a father could give. At the edge of my adventure was a cemetery one that feels like no family visits anymore, their resting place turned to the edge of industrial take over. But still there stood a father figure towering over them.

I often think why doesn’t anyone else see what I see? Do they understand how lucky they are to live near such a powerful place even though it’s slowly killing them? Then I read @tankhall instagram post and I immediately knew she saw what I saw. Her lover was a father to me.

I still swing by every so often to visit the cemetery, sit in my truck, and remind myself to just keep driving.

I’ve shot this location on a digital camera from 2007, my Sony, and 35mm film each capturing it in a different light.

[backroadsbandit]

I grew up at the ocean. Every day was sandy feet and salty skin. Long Island was a dream anything I wanted to do was at my finger tips 24/7, you want to go to NYC perfect 30 min train ride, you want a pizza at 2am perfect it’s right down the street, you want to go to Montauk it’s just a drive away. One day that dream started to get darker and darker what was once convenience, excitement, and peace became anxiety, paranoia, and fear. I started to notice how packed the grocery store was and how far the exit is from me. I’d have anxiety and stress to the point of passing out I couldn’t even drive. I was a mall worker and witnessed some of the most disrespectful violent situations. I decided to run I packed up all my belongings, sold my truck and drove to western PA in two weeks.

I was able to heal so many parts of myself and give into those anxieties, being in Appalachia I was able to slow everything down that was rushing in my body. Now I am able to revisit Long Island and be brave again.

These are some shots from a recent visit where I saw the beauty in the beach again.

[backroadsbandit]

3am. Just when I thought winter was over and we made it out alive the snow started again, I had to let go of the idea of spring and sit in the flurries. Sad of what I thought was about to bloom but somehow happy in the silence of a snow fall. The abandoned apartment building at the edge of the mountain stared at me and I could almost hear it laughing “you think you got it bad? All my windows are busted and my insulation is decaying”

Shot on minolta prod-20 35mm point and shoot

[backroadsbandit]

These are shots from my first roll of film living here in western PA. It was a couple years in I lost all motivation to shot film. I picked up disposables every so often but craved something more. I picked up a Minolta point and shoot and immediately felt empowered to capture anything and everything around me. I recently found a group of friends in town that I’d actually leave my mountain for. We’d meet every weekend to cook and eat pizza, drink, and plan projects like fixin my leaky truck roof or building a flower bed.

[backroadsbandit]

Her lover was a Father to me.

I was alone with nothing but my truck, my music, and my cameras. Riding for hours a day blowing through gas just to see it all. One night I stumbled on the Bruce Mansfield plant something felt different. This drive was cold and seeing this location for the first time was a warm greeting with a type of authority that only a father could give. At the edge of my adventure was a cemetery one that feels like no family visits anymore, their resting place turned to the edge of industrial take over. But still there stood a father figure towering over them.

I often think why doesn’t anyone else see what I see? Do they understand how lucky they are to live near such a powerful place even though it’s slowly killing them? Then I read @tankhall instagram post and I immediately knew she saw what I saw. Her lover was a father to me.

I still swing by every so often to visit the cemetery, sit in my truck, and remind myself to just keep driving.

I’ve shot this location on a digital camera from 2007, my Sony, and 35mm film each capturing it in a different light.

[sumheavyocean]

Hondo, TX

[backroadsbandit]

I remember this day perfectly the ground was salty. The sun was out just enough to warm the inside of my truck. I took the road that leads to the factory and kept past it I stumbled on a small town with nothing but a church playground and a dollar tree. It was so quite I felt like I was doing something bad by driving through. I made a wrong turn to a closed road blocked off by guard rails seemingly thrown to keep strangers out, an over abundance of no trespassing signs up like that would put a stop to my adventure. I swung my legs one after another to cross over. On my stroll through the property I found a perfect raccoon skull which now sits on my dashboard turning whiter with every sunny day.

[ethxn1111]

♡ 4/15/26 ♡

[backroadsbandit]

Shot with my Minolta prod-20 point and shoot.

Something about Pittsburgh that leaves me speechless. Coming from a bustling area in NY seeing a place like this with so much potential but filled with depression and decay is really captivating. A lot of locals laugh and are used to seeing all this but to me it’s a treasure. I drive around for hours to find a new abandoned home deep in a back road or a failed shop in the center of the city.

[backroadsbandit]

Shot on Leica mini zoom

This winter came with so much healing and grieving. I feel a sense of relationship with the way the snow blankets the earth to completely start over, but also protects what comes back every spring. It’s always just lurking there dormant under the soil.