American Road Trip

Every year you hear the same story on the news - people left stranded in airport after thousands of canceled flights. Same thing. Every year. This December (2022) marks 10 years that I’ve been driving from San Diego to New York to do some shooting and see family for the holidays. It’s also the first December in a decade without Mojo, so I pulled an audible to the normal cross country drive, instead trying to focus time and effort on the cowboy project. The plan was drive to a couple ranches in northern Nevada for several days of shooting on each. Afterward leave my truck at the Salt Lake City airport and fly home to Albany from there. Plans don’t always work out. After rushing to the airport I walked right through security with a knife and a lighter. Didn’t plan on having them with me, it just worked out like that. My flight had several delays as did Emily’s. She was supposed to land in Albany 5 hours prior to me. I finally made it there at 5am, while she had been rerouted. Which meant taking my mothers car, driving to Boston to pick her up, then back to Albany for Christmas Eve at my Aunt’s house. Then up to Lake George for 3 days at my sisters. Those 3 days were fantastic. Then on Tuesday I woke up to a text saying my Thursday flight was already canceled. Phone calls to Southwest resulted in a busy signal or that annoying ring from yesteryear that happened when the number you called was no longer in service. An internet search revealed the next available flight wasn’t until January 2nd. Who knows if that would actually happen though? So I rented a car and started the next morning on a drive back to Salt Lake City where my truck was waiting. Honda Accords with summer tires are no fun to drive in the winter, especially when the weather reports are filled with storm warnings. Slowly, it did the trick. Meaning it got from A to B, but not much else. Unfortunately there wasn’t enough time during the ride to do much shooting, but I still managed to squeeze in a few early morning frames of southern Iowa.

The ride through Wyoming on the 80 was par for winter in Wyoming on the 80 - a windy/snowy mess. Thankfully it remained uneventful. After picking up my truck in SLC, I started the drive south through 3+ hours of rain. At some point of tiredness I pulled off into a truck stop and slept in the back of the truck. Tried anyway. The days coffee intake was far too high for any real sleep. Around 2:30 am I was back on the road, pulling off again for a nap around 5 am just south of Vegas. Waking up from the nap was a pleasure. That hour or so before the sun actually rises is really special in the desert. From about 7am to 9am I was shooting almost non-stop. Everything just seemed photographable in that beautiful light. Really though it’s the lack of light that makes it particularly desirable, in my opinion. Low ambient light through the cloud cover without any harsh direct sunshine is premo. The side road took me to a part of Nevada I’d never been before, into a place that seemed completely disconnected from the rest of the world, despite only being 25 minutes from the highway. From there is was back into the mess that always is southern California traffic.

There were two lessons learned over those couple weeks of travel. 1) I’m an idiot for not driving the whole way. 2) the pictures will always come if you’re patient. The first day of driving 15 hours straight from Albany to a hotel in Iowa was frustrating. I hate burning country without making images, but there was a deadline to meet, so I didn’t have much of a choice. That next morning the weather was interesting, so I hopped off the 90 for an hour and managed to make images I’m quite happy with. The itch was scratched. Still though, it would be wildly disappointing to drive from coast to coast only making a few images in a small section of one state. It worked out though. The incorrect amount of coffee led to a sleepless night that put me in exactly the right place/right time. Situations like this have happened many times over the years on road trips, international vacations, etc. So the lessons have slowly changed the way I go about finding images. 10+ years ago I couldn’t sit still until images were in the can. Now, I’m learning to let them come.

Click here to see more from the America series

Barbershop - Marfa, Texas

Marfa, Texas — A Barbershop Now Closed

This barbershop in Marfa, Texas is no longer open.

When these photographs were made, the shop was still operating — quietly, modestly, and without spectacle. An elderly barber continued cutting hair for longtime clients beneath fluorescent lights and wood-paneled walls layered with decades of memorabilia.

Not long after, the doors closed.

What remains now are the photographs.

The Final Years

Inside, nothing felt staged.

The floor was worn.
The sink chipped.
Sports posters faded at the edges.
A 1979 Cowboys team photo sat beneath a television.

Customers — mostly older men — waited their turn as they likely had for years. The routine continued as it always had. No announcement. No ceremony. Just haircuts.

In small towns like Marfa, institutions often end not with a grand closing, but with a gradual thinning of time — fewer customers, older hands, fewer reasons to keep the lights on.

A Vanishing American Interior

Barbershops have long functioned as community anchors across the United States, particularly in rural towns. They are practical spaces, but they are also repositories of memory:

• Photographs of local teams

• Certificates and clippings

• Posters taped to wood-paneled walls

• Objects that accumulate without ever being curated

When a shop closes, those layers often disperse. The room empties. The rhythm stops.

What disappears isn’t just a business. It’s a pattern of local community.

Marfa in Context

Marfa is widely known today for contemporary art and desert minimalism. This shop represented something different — a working-class interior untouched by trend cycles or design updates.

It was modest.
Functional.
Unchanged.

Its closure marks a quiet shift in the town’s cultural landscape — one less everyday institution, one more room that no longer holds history.

The Story Behind The Photographs

As much as I try to embrace social media, it’s difficult to genuinely say anything positive about it sometimes. Every once in a while though, something happens that makes me think twice. A few days ago I posted this image of a traditional barbershop in Marfa, Texas on my @barbershopsofamerica Instagram account, which was re-posted as a story by Visit Marfa. That day I received a direct message from a woman in that had seen their story and was filled with sentimental feelings, as she used to know the shop and the owner. She went back to look at it again later and noticed that the man in the chair was her father, who had passed away two years ago from cancer. The image caused her to cry happy tears and she asked about purchasing a print. Turns out we live 15 minutes from each other! So this morning I drove to her house to deliver some prints and a copy of Barbershops of America. Social media isn’t all bad!

This project has been going on for 10 years now. Hard to believe. Aside from the obvious joy it gives me to make theses images, it’s the auxiliary things that really make it special. The people I’ve met out of pure coincidence or from having shared interests will keep this series going forever.

Continue Through the Archive

The Marfa barbershop is one chapter in a 15+ year effort documenting independent and traditional barber shops across all 50 states.

Some shops are expanding.
Some are adapting.
Others, like this one, have closed.

→ View the full Barbershops of America archive
→ Explore the Barbershops of America photo book
→ Read another barbershop story from Kentucky

Together, these spaces form a record of a disappearing American institution — preserved one shop at a time.

Regular customers wait beneath walls lined with photographs and memorabilia inside the now-closed Marfa barbershop.

A 1979 Cowboys team poster sits beneath the television, one of many personal details layered into the shop’s interior.

Close view of an elderly barber doing a straight razor shave in a small West Texas barbershop.

An elderly barber cuts a longtime client’s hair inside a modest Marfa, Texas barbershop in its final period of operation.

Reflections reveal the compact workstation—fluorescent lighting, worn counters, and tools accumulated over decades.

Basketball Wall Art For Modern Interiors

Basketball Wall Art Ideas for Modern Interiors

Basketball doesn’t just belong in arenas. It shows up in driveways, alleyways, deserts, and small towns—places where the game exists without an audience. As wall art, these scenes bring a sense of quiet, structure, and familiarity into a space.

For those looking to add basketball wall art to their home or office, the question isn’t just what to hang—but what kind of image holds attention over time.

Why Basketball Works as Wall Art

At its simplest, basketball is a set of recognizable forms—a rim, a backboard, a painted line. When photographed outside of a stadium, those elements become graphic and minimal.

A single hoop against an open sky. A backboard weathered by years of use. A court fading into the landscape.

These images tend to work well as wall art because they balance:

• strong, simple composition

• texture and age

• a subject that feels familiar without being overly specific

They don’t rely on action or players. Instead, they create space—something that holds attention without overwhelming it.

Different Styles of Basketball Wall Art

Not all basketball imagery feels the same in a room. The setting and composition shift the tone entirely.

Minimal / Isolated Hoops
A lone hoop in an open environment creates a clean, understated presence. These pieces often work best in modern interiors.

Urban Courts and Alleyways
Layers of texture—walls, pavement, fencing—bring more density and detail. These images tend to feel more grounded and architectural.

Rural and Landscape-Driven Scenes
Hoops set against fields, mountains, or desert environments introduce scale and atmosphere. These often read as quieter, more contemplative pieces.

Graphic Light and Shadow
Reflections, silhouettes, and strong contrast push the work toward abstraction, where the subject becomes more about shape than place.

Basketball Photography as Fine Art

For over 15 years, this project has focused on basketball hoops found far from stadiums—mounted to barns, garages, telephone poles, and fading backboards in rural towns.

The photographs are not staged. Each one is discovered, observed, and documented as it exists. Together, they form a visual record of basketball as a constant presence in American life, regardless of location or scale.

This ongoing series has been featured in galleries, museums, on NBA TV, in iconic magazines like SLAM, ESPN, and Sports Illustrated, and international fine art books on basketball, reflecting the broader cultural significance of the work.

View The Full Project

Where to Find Basketball Wall Art Prints

For those looking to bring this work into their own space, a selection of photographs from the series is available as fine art prints.

View Basketball Wall Art Prints

For Collectors, Designers, and Licensing

These basketball hoop photographs are also available for editorial and commercial licensing. The work has been used by brands, publications, and media outlets looking for an authentic representation of basketball culture beyond the professional game.

For inquiries regarding larger installations, hospitality projects, or licensing, please get in touch - rob@robhammerphotography.com

Basketball hoop wall art for residential design

A basketball hoop reflected in a puddle on an outdoor court, creating a surreal, inverted scene. Available as a fine art basketball photography print for modern interiors and collectors.

A weathered basketball hoop standing against a dramatic sunset in rural America, captured as part of the American Backcourts series. Available as a fine art basketball wall art print for collectors and modern interiors.

A weathered wooden basketball hoop mounted to a utility pole, photographed in rural America as part of a long-term series documenting the overlooked places where the game is played.

A solitary chair facing a basketball hoop in a remote desert landscape, part of the American Backcourts series. Available as a fine art basketball wall art print.

Installation view from the American Backcourts series, a long-term project documenting basketball hoops across the United States, exhibited in gallery settings and featured in publications including SLAM and NBA TV.

The American Barbershop

Inside an Old School Barbershop

Some barbershops just feel different the moment you walk in, at least they should. This one sits right on Main Street in a small Nevada town, and it hasn’t tried to reinvent itself or keep up with trends. It doesn’t need to. It’s an old school barbershop in the truest sense — a place built on community, friendships, decades of doing things the same way because they work.

You notice it in the details first. The worn chairs. The mirrors that have seen thousands of haircuts. The quiet hum of clippers and conversations that don’t feel rushed. This is the kind of traditional barbershop where people come not just for a haircut, but because it’s part of their weekly or monthly rhythm.

An Old School Barbershop That Still Feels Like Main Street America

Main Street barbershops like this one are becoming harder to find. A lot of them have disappeared, replaced by newer spaces that feel more like salons than barber shops. Luckily, this place hasn’t gone that route. It still feels rooted in tradition, serving the same community it always has.

People come in, take a seat, and wait their turn. Some talk. Some don’t. The barbers know all the faces, and the ones they don’t quickly become familiar. There’s no rush to move people through. The pace is steady and comfortable — exactly what you expect from an old school barber shop that’s been around long enough to earn that confidence.

This is Main Street America in its simplest form.

Photographing a Traditional American Barbershop

When I photograph barbershops, I’m not looking to stage anything or make the space feel more polished than it really is. I’m drawn to places like this because they already have character. The work is about paying attention — to how light hits the mirrors, how chairs sit slightly crooked from decades of use, how people interact when they feel at home.

This traditional barbershop didn’t need direction. I spent time watching, waiting, and letting moments happen naturally. A barber stepping back to check his work. Someone laughing mid-conversation. A quiet pause while clippers buzz in the background. Those are the moments that tell the real story of a shop like this.

Why Old School Barbershops Matter

Old school barbershops are more than just places to get a haircut. They’re social spaces, community anchors, and in many towns, one of the last places where people still slow down a little. They reflect the personality of the neighborhood they’re in and the people who keep them going.

Photographing spaces like this feels important, especially as so many of them disappear. Once they’re gone, they’re gone for good. These photographs are a way of preserving what these places look and feel like — not in a nostalgic or romanticized way, but honestly, exactly as they are.

Vintage Barbershop Photography Prints

This series is part of my ongoing Barbershops of America project (and photo book), documenting traditional and vintage barbershops in all 50 states of the USA. Photographs from this Main Street barbershop are available as fine art prints, and they tend to resonate with collectors, interior designers, and anyone drawn to classic American spaces.

If you’re interested in prints from this series, or in licensing images for editorial or commercial use, you can explore more work from the project through my barbershop photography gallery.

View the barbershop photography book

View the barbershops photography gallery

A mounted elk watches over the barber’s counter—an unmistakable detail that roots this barbershop firmly in old school tradition.

Details like handwritten signs, framed photographs, and unapologetic Americana are part of what defines this old school barbershop.

A moment of laughter during a haircut in an old school barbershop, where mounted elk and decades of tradition share the same wall.

A detail that stops you in your tracks—ammo for sale on the barbershop counter, a reminder that these shops often reflect the character of the towns they serve.

An old-school barbershop moment—regulars in the chair, clippers on the counter, and a mounted elk watching over decades of haircuts and conversation.

Kansas City Basketball

Basketball Hoop Photography - Prints

Story Behind The Image

Of my many vices, BBQ is damn near the top of the list. Food in general is a big part of my life, but great BBQ is an especially large weakness. Many years ago while driving cross country, I stopped in Kansas City for some of their famous meat, and almost immediately complained to friends about the quality of that particular establishment. One of them recommended Arthur Bryant’s on Brooklyn Avenue. Ever since that trip AB’s has been a must stop anytime I’m within a couple hundred miles. They don’t miss. You know walking in there that they are going to take care of you. The place just feels right. Like walking into Madison Square Garden, you can feel the history. What the hell does this have to do with basketball? Nothing really, but if you’ve ever had a proper plate of BBQ, then you know the only thing that follows is immense satisfaction followed by meat sweats and a nap. So the ritual goes that I eat too much food, sparing the napkin full of scraps that are saved for Mojo who is (was) always waiting in the truck, drool already hanging several inches from his mouth. Poor bastard had to sit there while the smell of burnt ends and pulled pork wafts steadily in the window. After his treat we go for a long walk which turned into the same familiar route over the years. One of the regular sites is an abandoned school that I’ve made some mediocre images of. Viewing it from the outside always led to daydreaming of what the  gym inside looked like. As luck would have it, while walking by one year the plywood on a ground floor window was ripped off and the metal grate had been ripped open. That’s an invitation, right? Of course it is. Anyone that takes if for anything less is a fool. So I hopped in the window with a tripod, camera bag, and a headlamp. Kansas City summers are hot to say the least. Inside a sealed off brick building is something else altogether. It felt like you could chew on the air in there. Walking into the gym didn’t even seem real. My jaw must have drooped right to the floor. Couldn’t believe what a gift I was handed.  The whole room was all but gutted, yet the backboard still stood. I could have been happy in there for days. Still though it wasn’t a place to be for long. There were obviously people squatting and I didn’t have much interest in them knowing I was there. So after waiting waiting waiting for my lens to defog, a few frames were made, and I hit the road without any interactions between the squatters or the police. Moral of the story is eat more BBQ. 

If you’re a photography collector looking for basketball wall art, please contact me directly. All of my basketball hoop photography is available as fine art prints - rob@robhammerphotography

American Photography

Photographing America - Road Trip - USA - Travel

Every day spent on the road is educational in some way, especially when you drive for hours upon hours without producing anything. Half days even. A full day, and you still might not have put the camera up to your eye. Then you get to some kind of hot spot, for the lack of a better word. That’s what happened here. These top 3 images were made within 100 feet of each other in some small Illinois town on a day that otherwise produced almost nothing. Odd how that happens.

Click here to see more from my America series.

Roadside Meditations - Kehrer Verlag

Just returned from the road to find the first copy of Roadside Meditations waiting quietly at home. Feels so good to finally hold a hard copy in my hands after the long (but fun) production process with Kehrer Verlag in Germany. Unfortunately the books aren’t for sale yet in the States, but I will be posting and talking much more about this when the time comes. Hoping to have them up and ready to sell on my web store in about a month. Check back here or Instagram (@robhammerphoto) for updates.

Fine art photography book Roadside Meditations by Rob Hammer and Kehrer Verlag.

Wyoming Cattle Ranch

Wyoming Cowboy Photography

American West

Wyoming cattle drive

Wyoming is a land rich in rugged beauty, where open plains meet towering mountain ranges, and the cowboy way of life still thrives. One of the most iconic images that evokes the spirit of the American West is that of a working cowboy on a Wyoming cattle ranch. These photos not only showcase the breathtaking landscapes but also the hard work, dedication, and heritage that define ranch life.

Cowboys moving cattle on a ranch in Wyoming

Black and white cowboy photography print

Wyoming cowboys

Click HERE to see more cowboy photography from this series.

At Work

There are a lot of strategies for being productive while on the road. One of them is the “pop-in”. It’s become my go-to when rain won’t let you do much outside. That’s precisely how these images came to be. The pop-in isn’t for everybody. It used to scare the hell out of me. Then you realize there are only two answers, yes or no. If it’s a no, who cares? Just move on. Tony, the owner of this garage, was happy to let me hang out for a few minutes to make some images. Confused as to why, but it didn’t bother him any. Obviously they are going into my “At Work” series that has been so much fun to shoot. Some of the images you’ll see in the gallery are personal and others were made for clients. Better yet, some of them are personal assignments that were later published. Love when that happens.

Peru, Illinois

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American Road Trip

It seems like every road trip has its own personality filled with unique findings and activities. Of course photography is always the main focus of these trips, but there are also auxiliary goals that I try to squeeze in as well. Ranching, fly fishing, friends, and hunting are just a few of the things that happened in the squiggly red lines on the map. So far it seems like the results are good in the photography category and a hell of a lot of good times were had along the way. Excited to share more the miles soon.

View the American Roadtrip Gallery

Shop my American Roadtrip Photography Book

American Road Trip

Historic Texas Barbershop Photographs

Raymond’s Barbershop - Lockhart, Texas

Lockhart is best known for its barbecue, but places like Raymond’s Barbershop tell another side of the town’s story. Between visits to longtime institutions like Smitty’s Market, everyday routines continue in quiet spaces that rarely draw attention but shape the rhythm of local life just as much.

A Traditional Barbershop in Lockhart, Texas

Lockhart has no shortage of visitors passing through, but Raymond’s Barbershop remains firmly rooted in local life. The worn chairs, utilitarian layout, and unpolished surfaces reflect decades of daily use rather than intentional preservation. This is not a styled space—it’s one that has simply been allowed to age naturally alongside the town itself. During my time at Raymond’s, he was cutting the hair of an old friend. This wasn’t made known explicitly, rather in the chemistry the two had—genuine smiles exchanged as the customer walked through the door and candid, easy banter which can only be formed by time.

Why Small-Town Barbershops Still Matter

In towns like Lockhart all across America, barbershops have long functioned as informal gathering places—spaces where news travels, laughs are shared, and familiarity carries more weight than novelty. As commercial rents rise and older barbers retire, places like Raymond’s quietly disappear, taking a long and irreplaceable history with them.

Documenting Raymond’s Barbershop as Part of a Larger Archive

Truth be told I only found Raymond’s because of my obsession with BBQ, which brought me to Lockhart, but that’s just the luck of the draw. You never know how important subjects are going to come into your life. Regardless, these photographs of Raymond and his beautiful old shop are part of an ongoing, 15-year effort to document traditional barbershops across the United States. Each shop is approached individually—rooted in its town, its people, and its history—while collectively contributing to a broader visual record of a disappearing American institution.

View More Traditional Barbershops

→ View the full Barbershops of America gallery

For more work made in Texas, you can also view photographs from another long-standing barbershop documented as part of the same project:

→ View a Texas barbershop in Marfa

The storefront of Raymond’s Barber Shop in Lockhart, Texas—a modest main street presence that has served generations of local residents.

Hand-painted lettering on the front window of Raymond’s Barber Shop in Lockhart, Texas, separating the street outside from the quiet work happening inside.

An empty chair and quiet waiting area inside Raymond’s Barber Shop in Lockhart, Texas, between customers and conversations.

Barber and customer smile together during a routine haircut underway at Raymond’s Barber Shop in Lockhart, Texas, where familiarity and trust guide the work as much as technique.

Barber holds the chair as his elderly customer braces himself at Raymond’s Barber Shop in Lockhart, Texas—part of a daily routine that has remained largely unchanged for decades.

Western Road Trip Photography

American West Road Trip Photography

The American road has a way of pulling you back. Long stretches of highway through Nevada and Utah feel endless, but in that repetition there’s a rhythm. Old motels with fading neon, empty casinos standing against the desert sun, and roads that cut straight through the silence — these are the kinds of places I stop for. Photographing them isn’t about chasing a postcard view; it’s about capturing the way travel really feels out here. The grit, the solitude, and the strange beauty of what’s left behind. Many of these kinds of photographs found their way into my book Roadside Meditations, a collection built from years behind the wheel documenting the overlooked corners of America.

Why the Open Road Keeps Calling
There’s something about the freedom of the highway that never wears off. It doesn’t matter how many miles I’ve logged — each trip feels new. With every mile marker comes the possibility of something unexpected: a forgotten town, a roadside diner, or a stretch of desert that feels infinite.

Nevada’s Overlooked Beauty in Photographs
Nevada isn’t just casinos and flashing lights. Once you get off the interstate, the state opens up into a landscape of wide valleys, mountains in the distance, and towns that feel frozen in time. Photographing here means noticing the quiet — the old gas stations, fading billboards, and roads that seem to go on forever.

Utah Road Trip Photography and Timeless Highways
Utah is a different kind of dramatic. The land rises and folds into formations that feel older than time, and the towns tucked between them hold their own stories. Photographing here means chasing light across red rock, watching storms roll over plateaus, and pulling over just to breathe in the silence.

From the Road to the Book: Roadside Meditations
This series of photographs is part of a larger body of work I’ve been building for years — a meditation on the American road. Many images similar to these live in my book Roadside Meditations, which gathers together the motels, highways, small towns, and wide-open spaces that define what it feels like to drive across America. It’s less about where you’re going and more about what you see along the way.

Click here to shop my road trip photo book - Roadside Meditations

Click HERE to see more of my American Road Trip Photography.

Desert road in Goodsprings, Nevada - American Road Trip Photography

Winnemucca, Nevada

A beautiful stretch of road going into Capital Reef National Park in Utah

Photograph of the Fallon Nugget casino in Fallon, Nevada

A view down Winnemucca Blvd in Winnemucca, Nevada

Photograph of a church in Winnemucca, Nevada

Photograph of U.S. Highway 15 going through a beautiful section of Utah

The Peacock Lounge in Carlin, Nevada

Photograph of dust blowing over a dirt road in a remote part of Nevada

The Peacock Lounge in Carlin, Nevada

Roads in a desert section of Nevada

Fields of solar panels in Nevada

Interior photograph of a classic American motel.

The view outside Capital Reef National Park, Utah

The commercial casino in Elko, Nevada

Photograph of a train going through a remote area of desert in Nevada

A beautiful sunset in Nevada

Communication Arts Photography Annual Winner

Award Winning Basketball Photographs

Competitions have become one of the many shams in the photography industry. Today is seems like there are as many competitions as there are Starbucks, and they all prey on people, promising “exposure” that will lead to a world of endless possibilities. What they really are is a bullshit way for companies to rake in a boatload of money on entry fees. Communication Arts on the other hand, has a long standing reputation for high quality and publishing the most inspiring work of the year in their Photo Annual. So I’m honored to have my American Backcourts images included in this years pages along with breathtaking work by incredible photographers.

Click HERE to pick up a copy of American Backcourts

Communication Arts Photo Annual

Photographing America

American Photography - Fine Art

Road Trip Photos - Travel

Walking away from our work can be such a benefit. Meaning that we need to not see it for quite some time to realize what’s good and what isn’t. The “America” series has, like most of my projects, been going on for ten years now. I love it, but things have reached the point where the library is so big that it’s overwhelming. Making it hard to share in any productive manner. Everything you seen in the post was made over the last two or three years, which is usually the amount of time it takes to make sense of it all. That’s not a good thing. It’s time to enlist the help of a professional editor.

Click here to see more from the America series

Carthage, Missouri

Boise, Idaho

Holcomb, Kansas

Wallace, Idaho

Texarkana, Arkansas

El Paso, Texas

Iowa

Arkansas

Texas

Oregon

Green River, Utah

Avilla, Missouri

Fallon, Nevada

Oregon

Rest Stop - Indiana

American Basketball Culture

Basketball Hoop Photography - American Sports Culture

10 years into this series and it’s still just as much fun documenting the sport of basketball as it was initially. It’s always interesting to think about the games played on hoops in different parts of the country. It’s also enjoyable to see the images and realize that each one was an experience in itself to make. The first photo here in Primm was taken on a day so windy that I had to brace myself with one leg five feet in front of the other. You can see how the net is being pushed backwards. The second shot is from a high school gym in the middle of a remodel. Door was wide open and not a sole in sight. The hoop in Santa Rosa is actually one I photographed 10 or so years ago under completely different conditions. That image from all those years ago is in the book. Crazy how a location so random can be unintentionally revisited. And shocking to see that there is still a chain net hanging from the rim. The last image was made on a road I’ve driven a hundred times and never noticed before.

Click here to grab a copy of the book

Primm, Nevada

Minden, Nevada

Santa Rosa, New Mexico

Olancha, California

American Motels

Road Trip Photography - American Culture

American Motels - Open Road - Americana

Another one of those subjects I can’t seem to stay away from - American Motels. Maybe it’s the nostalgia or all the time I’ve personally spent in them? Not sure. Said this in a recent post, but it was shocking to see how many of these old places had shut down during a trip out to Texas a few weeks ago. What a shame.

Click here to see more from this series.

Lone Pine, California

Carson City, Nevada

Moriarty, Texas

Santa Rosa, New Mexico

Cowboy Culture Photography

Cattle Branding - Cowboy Photography

There’s nothing staged about the kind of cowboy photographs I make. No hired models in brand-new hats. No one pretending to ride for the brand. Just real people doing real work day in and day out, in weather that doesn’t care if you’ve got a camera slung over your shoulder.

For the past 5 years I’ve been photographing working cowboys on ranches across the American West. Not for the sake of nostalgia or myth-making, but because this way of life still exists, and it’s worth documenting. It’s early mornings, long days, sore horses, busted hands, and wind that doesn’t quit. It’s also pride, precision, and an unspoken connection between the people, the animals, and the land.

Most of the time, I’m just trying to stay out of the way. The goal isn’t to direct or interrupt—it’s to be quiet, to watch, and to make images that feel true. The kind that a cowboy can look at and say, “Yeah, that’s how it really is.”

These photographs aren’t just about cowboy hats and boots (though those are in there too). They’re about culture. About people whose lives are shaped by purpose, place, and tradition. And if you spend enough time around it, you realize it’s not just a job. It’s a commitment. A way of seeing the world.

If you're interested in cowboy culture—not the romanticized version, but the actual, hard-earned life behind it, this collection of photographs is for you. No frills, no filters. Just the truth of the West, one frame at a time.

Click HERE to see more of my cowboy photography.

Click HERE to shop my collection of cowboy photography prints

Photograph of a cowgirl sitting in her horse in beautiful morning light on a Nevada cattle ranch

Cowboys sorting cattle in early morning light in Smith Valley, Nevada

A young girl looks at horses tied to a trailer in early morning light on a cattle ranch

Photograph of buckaroos working cattle on a Nevada ranch

Black and white photograph of cowboys roping cattle on a ranch in Nevada

A cowgirl riding her horse through sage brush on a ranch in Smith Valley, Nevada.

A home made roping dummy on a bail of hay on a ranch in Nevada

Photograph of a calf running after being roped around the head

Photograph of a cowboy covered in smoke while branding cattle

Photograph of a cowboy covered in smoke while branding cattle

Cow testicles in a bucket after a cattle branding on a ranch in Nevada.

Black and white photograph of a cowboy laughing will sitting on his horse tied off during branding on a cattle ranch

Close-up photograph of a cowboys rope going aroud the heel of a running calf

Color photograph of cowboys branding cattle in a pen made with trucks and horse trailers

Blood covered cowboy chaps

Black and white photo of a Nevada cowboy in dramatic light

Smithsonian Magazine

The Saguache Crescent

Small Town Newspaper - American Culture - Publishing

If you’re not interested in hearing more talk about personal projects than skip this one. It will be a familiar topic forever though, so get used to it if you’re going to stick around. Shot these images back in July of 2019 during a road trip out to Colorado. There was a final destination in mind but the route was unplanned. One of the small towns that popped up along the way was Saguache, CO. And by small, I mean population 424 small. Driving down “Main St” I noticed a very peculiar yet unmarked storefront. Inside the front window was an unidentifiable machine that looked like it came from a different age. (Findings like this are one of the many romantic draws to small towns). The screen door was open so I went in and was greeted not by a person, but a space filled with unexplainable life. A monstrosity of metal, tools, and papers from front to back, but I couldn’t figure out what year it was or what it all meant. There was nobody inside so I tried the jewelry store next door hoping for an answer. Sitting calmly behind the counter was the man I later found out ran the business I had so many questions about. That business turned out to be the town newspaper, the last of it’s kind still being printed on a linotype machine. A what? A linotype machine. The industry standard before the invention of computers. Now they are dinosaurs. Dean was very lackadaisical toward my request to photograph him at work, but nevertheless we made plans to meet again after my 4th of July camping trip. So about 5 days later I was back in a town I had never previously heard of, working on a story about Dean Coombs and The Saguache Crescent. My two days with Dean and the town of Saguache was quite memorable. It all seemed like living in a time capsule. Life there happens in a bubble because Saguache has nothing to draw any tourists, so the only people you’ll ever see are locals. Learning about Dean’s process what both educational and humbling. The patience required by one person to put out a weekly newspaper on a linotype is unfathomable. Hats off to Dean and all the people around the world dedicated to similar tasks.

One morning at the local cafe I sat quietly at the bar waiting for a breakfast burrito that turned out to be the size of a piece of firewood. Haven’t found anything even close to that size since. But just as memorable was a 90 year old man in conversation with a friend, who picked up a jar of sugar and did a 10 second pour into his cup of coffee. Kinda threw all the science about health and longevity out the window.

A while after the trip an edit of images was put together and sent around to a few places and got picked up by The National. We were happy with the placement as The National is a very reputable/long running publication. Then Covid hit and everything went to shit. The piece needed a new home. We received warm feedback from a contact at National Geographic. She liked the photos/story even though it wasn’t a good fit and suggested we pitch it to the Smithsonian Magazine. So we did and 1.5 years later here we are. It can be hard waiting so long for a piece to find a home. The wait is well worth it though when that home winds up being The Smithsonian.

If someone handed me a billion dollars tomorrow I’d still be working on these type of projects. Telling stories about people like Dean and the last newspaper in the world being made on a linotype machine. I’m grateful for the opportunity to tell his story my own way and to collaborate with Nick Yetto on the writing. And to have a personal project end up at a place like the Smithsonian.

Long live the personal project!

Click HERE to read the article on Smithsonian’s website

Smithsonian Magazine

The Saguache Crescent

Dean Coombs

Linotype Machine

ROAD TRIP

THE BAD:This past week was the first time in a while since I’ve been on this particular route through Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas. The findings were not good economically. It was hard to see so many familiar small town restaurants and hotels closed, boarded up, or in the process of being demolished. Maybe the timing was a coincidence, but you have to wonder if it was all the result of COVID? Either way it’s a shame.

THE GOOD: Road trips are always so much fun, educational, and therapeutic. This one had me shooting on a cattle ranch (The Four Sixes) in the Texas panhandle where I met some great people and had a hell of a lot of fun shooting with them. Will be a while until I can post those images. So for now you can click HERE to see more of my Cowboy photography.

Texas Road Trip

Basketball As A Global Language

Basketball Hoops in Europe

Street Basketball and Public Hoops Across European Countries

Basketball is often thought of as an American game, but travel quickly proves otherwise. While moving through cities and small towns across Europe, I began noticing basketball hoops tucked into courtyards, alleys, schoolyards, and public spaces—quietly integrated into daily life. These photographs document street basketball as it exists beyond professional arenas: worn backboards, improvised courts, and places where the game is played simply because space allows for it. What stood out was both the differences from home and the familiarity—evidence that basketball has become a shared, global language spoken in cities far from where the game began.

Basketball Culture Beyond the United States

By the time these photographs were made, I had already spent years documenting basketball hoops across the United States. That long-term work shaped how I saw the game elsewhere. In Europe, basketball didn’t announce itself with signage or formal courts; it appeared quietly—behind apartment buildings, beside schools, along the edges of public parks. The hoops were often worn, sometimes improvised, and clearly used. These weren’t destinations. They were part of the landscape.

Basketball as a Global Game

Basketball’s simplicity is what allows it to travel. A single hoop can turn almost any space into a court. In Europe, that adaptability felt especially apparent. Courts were smaller, surfaces uneven, and surroundings shaped by centuries of architecture rather than modern planning. Yet the game persisted, fitting itself into whatever space was available.

These photographs aren’t about organized play or competition. They focus instead on the presence of the game itself—how basketball exists even when no one is on the court. In that way, the hoops become markers of cultural exchange, evidence of how a game invented in one country has embedded itself into everyday life far beyond its origins.

What These European Hoops Reveal About Basketball in America

Seeing basketball in Europe reinforced something I had already been observing at home: the game belongs as much to ordinary places as it does to arenas. The same visual patterns repeat—bent rims, weathered backboards, courts shaped by their surroundings rather than by regulation. Basketball adapts to place, but it never loses its identity.

That realization continues to inform my ongoing work documenting basketball hoops across the United States. While the landscapes differ, the impulse behind the game feels universal. Basketball shows up wherever people live their lives, and the hoop often remains long after the players have gone—quiet, functional, and waiting.

An Ongoing Documentary Approach

This body of work exists alongside my long-term project photographing basketball hoops in America, where I continue to focus on rural towns, backyards, alleys, and overlooked spaces. Together, the images form a broader visual study of basketball as part of everyday life—one that crosses borders without losing its meaning.

Rather than treating these European photographs as a separate series, they function as context. They reinforce the idea that basketball isn’t confined to a single country or culture. It’s a shared language, expressed through place, architecture, and the simple presence of a hoop.

View More Global Basketball Hoop Photographs

American Backcourts - A long-term photography project documenting old, handmade, and overlooked basketball hoops found in small towns, rural yards, and quiet neighborhoods across the United States.

Vietnam Hoops - A photographic exploration of basketball hoops across Europe, where the game blends into historic streets, housing blocks, and everyday public spaces.

Venice Beach - A vibrant look at basketball culture in Venice Beach, California, where color, creativity, and public courts collide in one of the most iconic basketball environments in the world.

A basketball hoop stands in a small courtyard, framed by handmade brick and stone mosaics that blend public art and everyday basketball culture

A lone basketball hoop in a residential setting, photographed in black and white, highlighting the quieter side of European basketball culture.

A chain-net basketball hoop centered against a brick backdrop, highlighting durability and utility in European public courts.

A brightly colored basketball net hangs from an outdoor hoop, emphasizing the visual details that define everyday basketball culture in European cities.

Detail of a basketball hoop’s base, where metal, stone, and moss reveal the slow passage of time on an outdoor European court.

A straightforward view of an outdoor basketball hoop, photographed in black and white to focus on form, structure, and balance.

A red basketball backboard stands out against brick architecture, showing how outdoor courts are embedded within everyday European neighborhoods.

Seen through the rim of a basketball hoop, a church steeple rises in the background, placing the game within the architectural fabric of a European town.

A metal basketball backboard seen through fencing, reflecting the layered infrastructure common to many public courts across Europe.

Viewed through layers of fencing, an outdoor basketball hoop emphasizes access, separation, and the realities of shared public space.

A handmade wooden backboard with a bright orange rim highlights the improvised, personal nature of informal basketball spaces.

A basketball hoop at dusk, surrounded by fencing, captures the subdued atmosphere of an outdoor European court after daylight fades.

A solitary basketball hoop sits on a moss-covered outdoor court, reflecting the quieter, weathered character of many European public playing spaces.

A chain-net hoop framed by city windows, underscoring how basketball courts exist within dense European urban environments.