On my last trip to Miami I was cruising down Biscayne Blvd and spotted some pretty cool old motel signs. I had my holga with me so I decided to shoot them. These old motel signs reminded me of an assignment where we drove over 3,000 miles.
On one of the nights we ended up in a small town in the middle of nowhere Montana. The only place available for the night was a $24.99 motel. I contemplated sleeping on the park bench across the street then opted for the room; although I should have done the latter.
The room was dingy, cold and musty. The walls were grey cinder block. The bathroom floor was missing all of it's tiles. The sink was mounted into a counter made of rotting plywood. The t.v. was via the 70's and hung out of the ceiling. I turned it on for a few seconds; the screen was orange and yellow with lines running horizontal. Before bed, instead of using the bathroom I opted for the alleyway behind the motel. I didn't dare sleep under the covers, instead I whipped out my down north face bag and slept like a baby.
