Cruise Control

We’re visiting an isolated town. Stumbled upon during dreamy drives down endless, empty roads. An eerie euphoria settles over Scott as he encounters sparse and scattered buildings, little signs of life among dilapidated and tired looking houses. The sudden bang and buzz of an outdoor air con unit springs to life and penetrates the deafening silence, broken up by the slow wanderings and crunches of the dry earth beneath his feet. He’s the outsider in this remote corner of the earth. The land stretched out, dirt roads branched out like fingers stretching, reaching for the edge. Here you would believe the earth was flat.

Noa Grayevsky documents this stranger in a ghost town, photographing like a curious observer - following Scott's every slight move, invading on his personal doings. It’s a story we’ve all heard before. One that we’ve wanted to be a part of. A tale and possibility that appeals to the wanderer inside us all, the possibility to arrive somewhere new, a perfect unknown being in alien surroundings. Intruding on a life that isn’t yours and immersing yourself in foreign spaces. Here no one knows his name, here he can become someone entirely new. With a silent and unhurried nature about him, feel untroubled too as a newcomer in these parts.

An old, vintage car carries him and holds a pair of ominous eyes that glance unperturbed up at the rearview mirror into the barren nothingness that follows his tracks. Dust clouds up behind his wheels that dig up the floor beneath. The path lined with towering crops, he is contentedly lost within a country state. Ian McRae dresses him in fashion that sets him apart from his surroundings - suited and retro sleek attire against the haphazard array of interesting and barely there buildings. He is part of the mixture now, a new component to this messy fabrication.