This is an homage to my Godfather, John Miller. I spent an entire year on the road setting out to photograph the American West with only my camera, a few bags of clothes a tiny amount of money and a copy of Blue Highway’s the beautiful book by a much underrepresented Native American author that my beautiful Godfather gave me bc he believed in me and my work more than any other person in my life, we would have Sunday wine nights where we’d each by a bottle or three and I’d tell him about all my adventures through the Copper Corridor and Yellow Cake mining communities in Arizona where it would be a thousand degrees and I had my old 1991 silver Trooper that had no ac but carried me through my epic journey of a lifetime and soon to be published in my first book as soon as I get my horrendous spinal surgery behind me bc I broke my back on this same journey at an artist residency which disabled me for the past 15 years but my beautiful godfather who btw was one of the Original Beatnik’s and lived in Morocco and was friends with William Burroughs and also smoked opium with author Paul Bowls while he lived as a bisexual beautiful human being for many years after the war where he was stationed in Africa where he had a possy of wild wounded animals who he always used to tell me about but because he had so many wild stories I figured he made it up until one night we were in his studio where he hung his famous billboard of everyone he loved including me at 31 when we all took a family boat trip across the bay we are all from San Francisco. John Miller, RIP my most beloved godfather of all time actually had on his billboard a picture of all the wounded animals that sure enough lived with him in Africa, they included a tiger with a missing paw, a golden eagle with a missing wing, a hyena so beaten up she could no longer fight, and the list continues but this is the story of my most beloved soul, this man knew me since I was in the womb and because I had the misfortune of having a drunken biological father who never had the empathy or humanity to acknowledge my existence, John Miller stepped into my life and Never stepped out and I was like one of his wounded animals who he nurtured and cared for and gave them and myself a home and brought them back to life, as he honored me, my life and my work, we remained close our entire lives! I love you 💕 forever John Miller! You are so greatly missed.