So after 9 long years of ignoring the obvious I head back to the gaping maw that apparently swallowed my father whole and left nothing but a collection of rabid brothers and a stunned, confused family.
This is a complex situation: As an estranged, diffident son who inhabits a (metaphoric and geographic) different universe.
Quite apart from the obligatory unresolved father/son issues. There are logistic nightmares created by the terrain, the culture the grubby sociopaths that answer the same name.
It is impolite to speak ill of the dead and besides I'm all grown up now and need to rise above my boyish issues.
All that pales in comparison to the desperate schemes, threats of violence and virulent heat, humidity, red dirt, grubby notes, evangelism and chaos.
BUT I made it through this is my visual testimony.
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