I met Donald at a farm sale on a cold March afternoon in Indiana. He was bidding on tractor supplies and I was freezing my ass off. He told me a story about a national geographic article he read once, about windmills in Holland and how they are repaired by a man lowered down by helicopter.
I dream of faces like Donald's. Weathered and contoured like the tilled Indiana soil he has worked for the past 60 years. Donald, 72, grew up during the golden age of photography, and is why, I think he not only allowed me to make his photograph, but did so gladly.
Why are so many people afraid of the camera, especially the people worth photographing? Times are changing, I just hope we are not letting it go undocumented.