Tim Barrus Blog
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Going Rogue
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A great sadness descended from the irony of midnight’s abyss not unlike red dust storms made you dream of rivers and the solitude of rivers and the river’s edge of sound and wounds and fatal roads and going away.
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FUCK THE COPS
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Both Andrew and I have had a lot of experience avoiding cops. We knew too many people, all of them members of Antifa, who had quietly disappeared. They just weren’t there anymore. Vanished. No one dared to question authority about where the evaporated were. The ubiquitous party line was that…
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RUSTEDJUNKERDIRTBIKES
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Andrew and I have been buying rusted junker dirt bikes (sometimes people pay us to take them away) and fixing them up, and then selling them. We had to buy some new tools. Riding the 150s in the snow is definitely a rush.
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The Better To Eat You With
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On the way to Granny’s house…
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The Boat Ramp
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I left on the same boat ramp I came in on. You are a long way away.
If you want it, I’m gonna be va va voom voom
If you got it, you got it, you got that boom boom
If you want it, I’m gonna be va va voom…
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BOLIVIA
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Dirt Bikes. La Paz.
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His Pajamas
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Photography: Tim Barrus
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Gold Coins For The Boatman
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ArtPhotography: Tim Barrus
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Readers in South America
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Americans would not recognize a South American adolescent as a reader. We cling to our precious stereotypes. Even if those stereotypes have no relationhip to the real world. Lately, I have been stunned to discover South American readers who have have found my books. And they read them. Many speak…
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Tim Barrus, The New York Times
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I live in Appalachia. Our people have dogs. Because they help keep us safe.
Because we are afraid. For many of us, dogs are all we have.
It’s difficult for people who live in parts of the country where things at least sometimes work. Can you imagine a place where…