highway #12

Highway #12 was made on a cold dreary day when my friend Jay and I left the city to take pictures of rural landscapes — fallen barns, abandoned homes, cars that had been forgotten, anything that conjured images from a Flannery O’Connor tale of lost souls waiting to be met by God’s grace. Outward scenes that reflected how I was feeling on the inside. But over time this picture moved from darkness to light and became a testament to male friendship. I was so depressed at the time trying to repair a marriage that turned out to be beyond repair. It was a traumatic event that triggered an OCD episode characterized by an onslaught of constant distressing intrusive thoughts with accompanying feelings of despair. It sounds strange but I was lucky to have a friend who was going through an equally awful time. It was so helpful to have someone who was just there. It’s rare that men can be a support to each other because our misguided notions of masculinity tell us we’re not supposed to be vulnerable and express hurt and sadness. Shortly after this, Jay moved his family to Quebec, and me and my ex separated then divorced, much like the two beat-up cars going in opposite directions but hanging on to their former glory, surviving the weather and the attempts of the earth to swallow them up. I’m forever grateful for this friendship and when I look back on this time in my life I can choose to remember it differently - not with bitterness and resentment but rather I can see how God spoke to me, cared for me, and brought healing through a friend like Jay.