Reality. Just what the heck is that, anyway?   No matter how much I might try to show a complete picture of here, I didn't grow up amidst the alcoholism and unemployment that surely must lead to a terrible sense of hopelessness, entrapment, and in many cases, clinical depression. At that point, do you care if your front yard is trashed? Do you care what kinds of things get dumped over the hill, or how many beer bottles are broken in your driveway?   When it boils right down to it, reality is almost completely subjective, and since I can never convey a reality I don't even understand, I'll have to just settle for a little balance once in a while.

These are hard pictures to take. On the one hand, I remember the signs on entering the Zuni reservation about no pictures being allowed. Perhaps such restrictions also exist here. I'd sure hate to have my camera confiscated as a result of my own ignorance. Caution rules, and surreption is the result, meaning I don't take a lot of the pictures I see.   Then there's almost a feeling of guilt or maybe more of an invasion of privacy at taking pictures of people's homes as examples of the negative side of the rez. Do they see me taking pictures of their houses? Do they wonder why? Or is it likely they care about me being there as much as they care about the trash being there?

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