Jacob Luczak (Lu) is one of my closest friends. Both of us are from small towns in Upstate New York– neighbors of sorts– and our paths seem to be permanently intertwined. His nearest landmark growing up was a casino and I guess mine was a decent sized lake. Simple living.

Today, I live in New York City and Lu lives in America. I do not know how to narrow it down beyond that. 

Lu has been traveling the country with his dog Poppa for the better part of a decade. They have  logged tens of thousands of miles together in search of God only knows what. I, myself, have been lucky enough to spend a few short weeks on the move with these two, allowed to witness  the way they operate. Lu and Poppa arrive in strange places and fully immerse themselves: no  deadlines, no judgements passed, and no ulterior motives. 

In the many months and years when I haven’t been able to be along for the ride, we’ll get in touch sporadically and, eventually, will catch up properly when the service is strong enough  for a long phone call. I have received these transmissions from slaughterhouses, wildfires, junkyards, county fairs, and so many other bizarre locales across the country. Some of the  pictures I received out of the blue at various points have found their way into this very book. 

I think that is what this collection feels like to me: hundreds of snapshots that Lu could’ve sent me from the road. The photos were not taken with the end goal of a glossy coffee table book, they were a means to an end– a way for him to remember and show his loved ones what his life has looked like for the past ten years.