ghost trash, 404

Sometimes it feels like being haunted, when you open your ghost mailbox to a pile of leaves, a dirty blue clipper and matching glove, one hand only, maybe trash. You walk down the lonely littered road, partially obscured where the neighbors chose to leave a mound of dirt and brush piled up 8ft or more like a giant beaver dam, now thorny vines scrambled and climbed up and up, then suddenly, a ghost. Some large papered fabric draped up and up menacing with a cheeto bag dick the wind will eventually blow apart and down into the thorny ground.

ghost trash, 404 is the second in a series of works collaging distorted photographs I have taken of abandoned camps I drive past daily with ai generated images. I make these because I want to be a witness. I want others to see and feel something.