Western Idaho Fair

Here we have a young bison trying to nurse from billy goat. For those of you who do not know, a billy goat is a male goat, also called a buck. Only occasionally did he let his frustration with the bison bother him enough to butt the calf with his horns.
This activity raises quite a few questions, non of which will I address here. This is not that kind of blog.

Loaded Landscape

Here is a review from a show that Luke and I are in at the Museum of Contemporary Photography.
We are only named as "New Catalogue."

America Me

As a fifth generation Californian, I have a tendency to defend the state when people make fun of it for its hippy/mellow/earthy population. But today I went into a store in South Lake Tahoe and overheard two co-workers’ conversation. One of them asked, “What are you?” There must be dozens of possible answers to that question: a woman, a human, a girl, an American, a Democrat. But she knew the answer, a Virgo. He was an Aries. They agreed that those two signs are not meant for each other - romantically speaking. He said, “I need to find a Sag,” (short for Sagittarius). So all of your preconceived notions about Californians are correct: always warm, earthquakes, hippies. We’ve got it all.

But I don’t live in California. I live in Boise, Idaho. My current mailing address is in Chicago, Illinois, my car is registered in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, I have a Massachusetts drivers license, and my area code is New Mexican.