13 August 2010

Motorhommage #1

There is something both noble and absurd about motorhomes. In functional man-terms, they are part castle, part conveyance, though most don't serve either function well. At all. My intuition is that the main reason for their existence is to serve as symbols. Land yachts, proof of material prosperity, retirement aspirations, justification for the job you hate, or that second job, the promise of more "quality time" with the kids, the promise of relaxation and felicity and adventure and freedom, and also, or maybe primarily, phallic compensation. Just to get started.

But forget the semiotics. I find motorhomes fascinating visually. See, I love great industrial design. It moves me as art. Now motorhomes are rarely great industrial design, but they are grandiose design, and even if they don't quite move me as art, I'm convinced they are somehow fitting objects for artful photography. They contain ironic and improbable beauty. So I'm going to start pointing my camera at some.

My first subject, spotted on the way home from work today, sat behind a motel parking lot (click images to embiggen).

Land Yacht #1

I snuck up on it, from the side opposite that pictured, not sure if it was inhabited. Junk piled against the windshield and a broken side window. Truck parked next to it full of junk. Looks empty. I step up and take a photo. Then the pit bull guarding it comes out from underneath.

Hmmm, matching colors. Maybe the dog is a factory option.

Butch

Wasn't expecting that. But he seemed nice and calm, and was tied up. I took a few more photos of the motorhome. Then a few close-ups of the Deluxe Option Pit Bull. Then he suddenly remembered his breeding, gave a Cerberus snarl, lunged at me, and I ran off squealing like a little girl.

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