The Roscommon Township of Michigan might as well have been the east side of Bolivia. It was all flat farms and dead land and roads that went on for hours, and I literally mean hours. Crammed into my tiny Toyota Camry, ten years old and croaking on rust, with my cameraman Jeremy and an industrialContinue reading “An Evil, Gorgeous Thing”
Tag Archives: writing
Your Renaissance, My Renaissance
Everything and everyone here is dead. I’m surrounded by wet, decaying grass, loose dirt, and graves. They go on for acres to the left and to the right. I’m in the middle of dead nothing. The mud dripping off my construction-grade boots, the squelching sound of the earth pulling me in – these are theContinue reading “Your Renaissance, My Renaissance”
Cassandra Mortimer 