Other Desert People

‘They are there, you just don’t see them’

Photo Ethnography of the scattered inhabitants of the El Truco Highlands. This is a beautiful but somber series of individual portraits of those living in isolation – some by choice, others by circumstance. Each has the rugged Highlands environment etched into their personality. Essentially this is a sub culture that exists- thrives- on the fringe. It took a full spring of long weekends winning enough trust to get these portraits. The interviews are stored elsewhere.

‘Tilapia Farmer’: his name is  Jeremy. He came to the El Truco a decade ago. He believed he could become a fish farmer. Others in other places had succeeded. Fish farming was more difficult than thought. Probably because of the heat and lack of water. He is still at it.

‘Yonda Pickering, the Desert Poet’: (Rejuvenation). ‘She dreamed she was earth, having fallen from sky. A seed swept amid the infinite, destined to arise’ . This portrait, albeit staged, was Yonda’s notion

‘The Man who Invented Water’: His name is Archie Moore. He claims he was once a prizefighter, and could have lived in France. I asked him ‘What brought him to the desert, and why does he think he invented water? At least in El Truco?’ He gnarls an eye and squints his nose, like assessing the dumbbell questions boxers get when knocking out an opponent in the first round – and then having to explain to stupid reporters the obvious. “Because, BECAUSE!, there was none until I got here. I am the great Archie Moore!” With that, he presented me the raging dry creek just over his right shoulder.

‘Other Desert People’: She has story, and she has a name. She just won’t share it. When asked what brought her to El Truco, she said she would answer that with her agreed upon portrait. That eve I photographed her on one of her favorite energy rocks. It is an evening ritual mind you, and has to do with reverse radiation soul fueling (?).

‘Rat Hannigan’ Her aunt, the wickid one, pet named her ‘Rat’ when she was a child. Never been able to shake it.

Spirit Woman’s’ first husband brought her to El Truco when she was sixteen. Her third husband is crazier than her – she laughingly claims – and they live harmoniously in a nearby antenna trailer. She is learning to fly, and studies by channeling the antics of paper gliders. He is a renowned rock stacker, having altered the laws of gravity years ago. Locals say she should have been a model, and she agrees.

‘She Who Dances For Rabbits’ This encounter had to be one of the most poignant of the project. The details are embedded into the picture, and hopefully you can read the text of the dance.

‘Kish-ka, Last of the Highland Desert Snakes’.  Kish-ka  was the only indigenous person I met in the El Truco Highlands. She agreed to dress ancestral for the portrait. But when I asked ‘What’s up with all the Band-Aids? – she said it was a modern Truco custom. Many locals wear band-aids, especially for events that encounter outsiders. A protection charm if you will. Not like jewelry -but like – you wont hurt me more than I have been hurt.  

‘Helen Heinz’: Her story is vast and different. It too is piece embedded. A once state supreme court nominee? A USN rear admiral? Runner up to be the first woman in outer space? She is very convincing. Until she said she does not recognize the number seven. Wont use it. Portrait is from her RV looking north.

Brenda Klimt comes to the desert nearly every weekend. The El Truco Highlands is one of her favorite spots. She says she has completed over thirteen hundred self-portraits here in the last eight years. I asked if I could take her portrait of her taking her portrait – and she responded ‘self you knock out’. Brenda is considering moving here permanently in the Autumn. Cant say she is friendly. She cautioned me ‘you too will be doing this (self portraits) if you don’t get out now.’ Right-e-oh.

Portrait of Dirt

‘Dirt’: Took several attempts to get an interview with Dirt. She knew when I was coming, and left me with just a fleeting glance. A legendary recluse, even by local standards. They say bring sliced watermelon and leave it on a plate five steps from her door. Bizarre, but that is how I got the interview. A short one.

‘Book Club’. Story is imbedded in the art. Some people read better than they speak. Word spelling can be a horror for the dyslectic. Dessert and Desert for instance can bring humiliation. So when she claimed to be a ‘Woman of the Dessert’, many laughed. “No” she would defend, “I am of sand and sorrow, wind and stone. I am of grit, and I am of cake!” Chuckles all around. Soon she had no book club friends, and migrated to the El Truco.

The author utilizing the West Nomad Culvert to reach The El Truco Highlands. The locals dissuade non inhabitants from using the communities only access road. If you ever have a hope of getting local cooperation, you do what they say.

A photo ethnography of one of the most interesting disenfranchised bastions of the American free will. Isolated, spirited, and hardly stupid. The El Truco is a location I can not disclose, other than its a ‘gem of a find’. The people there see themselves as living a more full life than populations below, and do not wish it compromised further.

I plan to eventually publish my book of photographs and interviews. This all took place in the spring of 2017, so I have lost some of the fervor for it that I once had. Or maybe, a covenant to not exploit rests within.