Visual Narrative: Car Stories
I love old cars. My Grandparents had a 1967 Mustang. When they passed my Dad restored the car and kept it for years until he gave it to my brother. It’s not so much the visual aesthetic that haunts me, it’s the smell. The moment I stick my head in an old Ford I’m transported to hot summers in Virginia, spending weeks with my Grandparents as a snot nosed young’un. Desperately trying not to let my skinny white legs touch the blistering hot, black vinyl seats. Falling asleep drooling in the back seat to the rumbling of the 289cc motor. My Papaw got stopped for speeding and we nicknamed the cop “Officer Pancake” because of his funny State Trooper hat. Old cars have stories. These memories aren’t forged in 1992 Hondas. They are direct links to a sensory vocabulary that forms and influences everything I do.