Matt Feldman Photography
The man, the apparition, the legend, the singer, the songwriter, the Detroit day labourer, the artist long thought to be dead, the alive and the incredible Sixto Diaz Rodriguez.
Chris Dumont of Memphis, playing Washington’s DC9 in April, 2011.
I awake to long blasts of the ship’s horn. Figuring the ferry is pulling into one of the first stops, I grab my camera and head above deck. Expecting to see Ios or Naxos, I instead recognize the rock walls and caldera of Santorini, the last stop. Passengers are pulling luggage through the halls and toward their cars on the vehicle deck. A family is applying suncreen at the stairs to the exit. It’s not yet 8 am but I’m not the only one salivating for gyros on shore.
On the streets of Ulaanbaatar.
On the bus to Rotorua, light is fading and we’re rolling across Middle Earth. Well, northern Middle Earth. Sheep and horses and merinos dot roadside pastures. They’re around every curve out here, and an hour south of Auckland, there have been a lot of curves.