Little Worlds - The Book from 1974

Now I’m staying with new friends on their farm north of Asheville. I agree to help with their tobacco and pepper crops in exchange for a dry place in their tobacco-casing house. I have no farm skills and feel pretty useless. I’m convinced my body isn’t made for hard physical work, and I do less than my share.

I do make a couple of nice pictures, one a photograph of Mac plowing with his mule that I especially like. But the reality is I’m floundering and very unsettled. I have hardly enough money for film.