Not So Clear

The town of Clear Lake sort of took me by surprise. I didn't think the resort town was going to be in its prime, but I wasn't expecting the buildings covered in creeping mildew or the passages of the main drag that smelled like human shit. I spoke to one proprietor who had recently set up shop and wanted to move back to Massachusetts. He said the county had sold its water to feed the rice fields outside Sacramento, which is why the lake was so low, and sold the minerals underneath the lake to some company in L.A. The town was overrun with meth, and the lake covered in green algae. Overall it had that sickly town sort of look, which looks even worse on towns that once held some promise of escape. Maybe I should have stayed longer, but I couldn't.



The town of Lakeport, on the opposite shore from Clear Lake, had more charm and was kind of stately with its pillared library and local museum. I can't remember why I pulled in or why I decided to stay the night, but I do remember the streets being so empty in the late afternoon and the shadows so long--almost more present than the objects casting them--that the downtown reminded me a bit of a de Chirico painting.

Turned out everyone was down by the lake, which made sense given the 100 degree weather. A Mexican restaurant with balconies overlooking the algae-covered blue was a hub of activity and the campground next door was having a VW bus gathering. Boats were pulling up out of the water covered in strings of algae, which had to be pulled off by hand.



While walking around, I met a man by the name of Juan Kelly who expressed an interest in photography and treated me to a margarita at the Mexican restaurant. I learned he was born in the U.S. to an Irish father and Mexican mother. They moved the family to Mexico when he was a kid and he spent the majority of his adult life there until he got divorced and moved back to the U.S. He worked for a company making RV's for a while and did well, than got into construction, but things had been difficult. He showed me some photos on his computer at the table, along with a mesmerizing video he took of his sister's house at Christmas, in which the camera floated around the room, almost bodiless, like a phantom. Later on, we met to take some portraits.




Photos sent by Juan Kelly