On the 23rd and the 24th of March when Rick Santorum was still in the race, breathing hard with rabid sincerity and rigid morality I was assigned by The New Yorker to go and shoot a right wing convention in Harrisburg, PA. When Emma Horning, my erstwhile assistant and I got there it was raining hard cleaning the street from the dust of a current draught. Ideas within the hotel where the convention was held, gave birth to a passionate if limited view of governance. Rather than wear the badge of The New Yorker which would have seen me and Emma to the door, I adorned myself with “Repeal Obama Care” buttons, Ron Paul stickers and the like, put on a tie (something I haven’t done in years) and waded into the fray of the very enthusiastic and friendly Right Wing birds of a feather, hawkish you could call them, all but some wanting to annihilate Obama with the sweep of history’s wand.

Within the chosen role of political chameleon I had a great time photographing with my very small and terrifically sharp Ricoh GXR and asking questions, it was a wonderful weekend. I thank all of the people in the room and The New Yorker for allowing me access into this living reality called America.