Mens FAll Wear...The old City and Central Market of Kabul, Afghanistan

Downtown Kabul

A blue burkha billows

Watermelon, Gun, Bandoleer....Surobi

Roadside watermelon break

Jeans, Khafiya, Tie Die....Why Not...Kabul

But what are those things behind them?

Uniforms....Zhari

A survey of uniforms. From left to right, Afghan National Army, Afghan National Police, District Governor (traditional), United States Army. Location, Zhari District, Kandahar.

James McMurtry...Live on the Streets of Spokane Washington

stopping for a quick photo before he went inside for two sets at the A Club. And, yes, he played No More Buffalo, and, yes, it was the best song of the night... but only because he didn't play Lights of Cheyene.

A Bandana and a scowl...Uruzgan

A 14 year old police officer in Deh Rawud, Uruzgan. A dubious dude smoking his smoke.

Prison door...Zhari, Kandahar

Shalwar and Kameez and Turban...Zhari

fall footwear....uruzgan

propped against the entrance to a mosque in tirin kot

how to wear a beret....Kandahar

An Afghan National Army Soldier at a firebase along the Arghandab River in the District of Zhari, Kandahar Province, Southern Afghanistan

Hipsters and Their Dogs...DUMBO...Brooklyn

A hipster dog drinks PBR (ironically) in his/her horn rimmed glasses.

Sandals....street 1

"One must imagine Sisyphus happy"

Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus

Scarved...Shakardara

Tattooed....On the Panjshir river valley

An Afghan National Army Officer with a tattoo from Iran which looks kind of like a heart with a pump (could be a real handy thing come to think of it, at least much better than a heart with a fucking arrow) stops fishing for five minutes to pose shamelessly on the banks of the Panjshir River. Insert Whitman quote here:

Grey Faux Leather and a Broom...a hotel, a television, a gas-heated room...Kunduz, near the Tajik border

Stencil....Kabul

A stencilist loose in Kabul. the numbers are the street numbers, the images are graphic renderings of everyday things--some opium poppy a little wheat an AK. I don't know what 'MAFIA' is a comment on exactly. A stop sign is a stop sign is a stop sign.

Vegetable as Necklace...downtown Kabul

What's hot in Kabul...red checked scarves

Not black and white, not red and white, and not straight black (hot a year ago) but red and black, which everyone--even those in the fashion business, like the gentleman above--are wearing in Kabul right now.

Christmas Time in Coronado

The attack jets come in low
over the ocean
past the tennis courts and the Duchess's cottage,
in tandem
low over the Navy golf course
headed for the North Island airstrip
then wheel to the left
out over the water again,
the afternoon's last light
making a movie set of the offshore islands
around and back once more
past the grand old wooden hotel and its cupolas
with a series of watery, high-pitched whups
as they cut back their engines
and disappear over the ridge.

The town seems very still, almost empty, rich.
Christmas displays in store windows.
A goodly stream of cars.
The traffic lights make a sound, too, bird-like.
I often get confused.
The roaring overhead. The traffic noise.
There is no place to go.

Out on the Silver Strand
the joggers and sweethearts take in the sunset
the air overhead as busy as war
Skyhawks, Vigilantes, Intruders
the cargo and surveillance planes
sub hunters, gunships
Phantom, Tomcat, Cobra...
It must have given the late President
great succor out there in his compound
those long troubled evenings in San Clemente
to see the lights
and track the arc of the distant thunder
as he sat, with a drink, looking
out that enormous window at the sea, the stars
a blur of light from the distant pier.

I have read, of the late President
from those who had been close to him, through it all
that he had in him a reflective
one might even say philosophical cast of mind.
I wouldn't know to say it wasn't true.
I wouldn't know to say.
But I myself have been thinking constantly of America.
Only of late, only here
with the might of the nation roaring overhead around the clock
spewing vapor from their strakes
going fucking nowhere
and noisily coming back.

Poem: Christmas Time in Coronado by August Kleinzahler (1998), from the collection Sleeping it Off in Rapid City, Farrar, Straus and Giroux (2008)

Image: An Osprey Warming up After Midnight, Kandahar Airfield, Afghanistan by Eduardo Plarr

Images from my Kidnapping...Locations mostly unknown

So this is from the backseat shortly after the abduction last week. "Oh keep on taking pictures," he was saying. "Me. I don't care." I thought this was nice but I also knew what it ultimately meant.

The grapes were plastic, but a nice touch nonetheless.

After we changed cars like five or six times and I think crossed into Pakistan. we reached a house and then they all did their scary-boy-jihadist thing with the knives for a while. At this point the light had gotten really flat so I started shooting in black and white.

Denim...Out West

July 4th 2010...Kandahar City

Bunting hung for the fourth inside the Kandahar Provincial Reconstruction Team Base, Nathan Smith, on the northern outskirts of Kandahar City. One year ago yesterday.

in Missoni....Via Taimani Strada Uno

I miss you my friend

Russian Officers Quarters....Overlooking Kabul

Where the Russians used to drink their vodka...stories of executions in the pool, though I've never cared to figure out if these were true

A Landcruiser fruit tree....Kabul

The company car in the company driveway with lunch for me

a Soviet era house in Taimani....Kabul

The lower line is the shadow of the first. The sun is sere and tends to burn things quickly here.

A police Chief and some bling....Kandahar

That circle in his pocket is snuff cut with opium.

A little lace in the Sugar Valley....Shamoli

A gust of wind and a lot of possibilities on a summer afternoon

Vintage Road Trip....somewhere in AFG

a cranberry anorak from before the war

Vintage Burkha...location unk

These are the scariest looking burkhas I've ever seen.

I didn't take this picture, and I am not sure who did. I got a file of photos from afghanistan and pakistan from the 70s.

My Favorite Building in Afghanistan....Kabul (with half of TV Hill in the background)

To be honest the architecture in Kabul sucks. A lot of stuff has been destroyed, and all the new buildings are cheap mirrored glass with streaks of dirt perpetually running down the sides. All the new residential homes are worse. We call them birthday cakes. (At least Rocco was good bad.) Pak influenced and built with heroin.  I'll go get a pic of one after my shift ends.

I wish I could tell you something about the building above. I can't though.  It's an octagon. And I like to think that when the muj were in the hills above firing mortars down on this street, they tried their best not to take this thing out. tia. 

Through the Garment District....Sewing Maching Cam...Kabul

Dresses Dresses....Kabul Kabul

A women's wear shop in the industrial district of Kabul

Sec Def in Khaki...Petreaus in "Digital"....Zhari Kandahar

The secretary of defense in khaki's, bomber jacket...with matching tent

4 stars on what is known as "digital" camouflage--a pattern that almost all soldiers universally hate because it isn't functional in Afghanistan--it's too green and two sharp, better for a urban warfare than deserts

mono braid....Kunduz

I would say braids are bigger in the north; though I wouldn't say why.

Bangs....in Kandahar

 

yeah. so. henna.

Chasing Wool....panjshir river valley

you can see why Masood was able to defend this place.

Atelier

Cornflower

Four images from the back seat