I’m mesmerized by this photograph of an Indiana family at the turn of the 20th Century.
The subjects, ghosts, enmeshed in a different time, a different world, an unrecognizable environment. Their manner of living drastically antithetical to the cultural blueprint of our moment.
They were different from us.
We are different than they.
So radically as to be a different species. If we traded places, exchanged temporal coordinates, would the shock and disorientation entreat us to turn back desperately to that we know?