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Photographer: Michael Eastman

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Eyvind Earle, Gardener’s Ranch

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Today in microfashion…. (Barcelona, Spain

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My dad was in jail.  My mom was hooked on sleeping pills and shit.  We could be under the same roof for a month and not see each other.  I remember one time I was like nine.  Mom was awake, well, not exactly awake.  But her eyes were open.  And she sent me out in the middle of the night to get a movie.  And I got super scared because I was alone in this super shitty town, and I ran back home because I was so afraid.  But Mom had fallen back asleep and didn’t wake up for five days.  She never cared if I went to school.  I hardly got any education.  I started drinking when I was twelve and never stopped.  Then I moved on to drugs.  It got bad.  Then it got really bad.  But I’ve been sober now for about a year.  I’m working at a call center.  My mind is clear and I know what I’m doing every day.  And I’ve met a girl who’s really patient and wants the best for me. She’s nice.  Like really, really nice.  But instead of being grateful I’m like: ‘you’re too close now.’  Because all my shit is bubbling up again and I’m afraid of feeling stuff.  But this time I want it to stop.  I’m trying to accept her love, whatever that means, because honestly I don’t know what that means.  But that’s what we’re working on.  I know that I’m frustrating to be with.  I’m not very open.  I don’t give away my feelings and I don’t take any back.  And I can’t say she’s OK with that, but she’s OK with it for now.  I really hope she doesn’t get tired.  She hasn’t yet.  I don’t know, maybe she sees that I’m worth the wait or something.” (Barcelona, Spain)

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“I’m ninety-six years old.  I’d rather just take a pill and get it over with.  Whenever I tell that to my wife, she pretends to slap me in the face.  But I’m ready to go.  And I’d like it to be sudden.  I’ve had a good run.  I was lucky enough to share my life with someone.  She’s ninety now.  We’ve had a lot of time together.  We have seven grandchildren.  Eight great-grandchildren.  But there are just so many things I can’t do anymore.  I have the money.  I have the time.  Just not the ability.  Whenever I walk, everything hurts. I enjoy sitting here in the park.  I think about all the friends that I’ve lost.  People come talk to me.  Time passes by.  But I’m ready.  I’m not scared of it.  I’d like my soul to go to wherever the souls go.” (Barcelona, Spain)

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Vintage matchbox labels featuring the Devil.

In Dutch, matches are called “lucifers”. I never really thought about that as a kid, but now, after all these years, I go—Oh wait.

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“I didn’t have sex until I was thirty-two.  And my parents were very proud of that.  We’re from an extremely conservative region of Algeria, and sex before marriage is completely forbidden.  They even checked my hymen before the wedding.  I came to France with my new husband, but then he abandoned me.  I’ve been alone for three years now.  Recently I met a new man, and I’ve been hiding him from everyone.  We’ve been having sex.   Last month I nearly died from a miscarriage.  I was bleeding internally.  They did an emergency surgery, and the doctor told me that I’d come so close to death.  I couldn’t tell anyone.  I told everyone in my family that it was just a cyst.  If they ever found out the truth, I’d be completely rejected.  I’d never be forgiven.  I’d never be allowed home.  And they could even kill me.  And I’m not joking about that, there are stories.” (Paris, France)

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bailey elderberry