Lava Hot Springs

Entering Lava Hot Springs felt less like a GPS coordinate and more like finding a lost roll of Tri-X from 1982. In a world increasingly defined by the "big box" skyline of Dollar Generals and strip malls, this town is a holdout. There is no corporate sheen here—just a hardware store two blocks away that actually smells like cedar and steel, and a community that still moves at the speed of conversation.

I chose to document this stay in Black and White to strip away the modern distractions and focus on the bones of the place. As I walked the streets with my Nikon, the soundtrack followed me—Blues Traveler drifting from the bakery doorway, John Hiatt filling a restaurant and of course The Grateful Dead playing in the hardware store. Different playlists, but the same soul. This gallery is a study of a town that hasn't forgotten its rhythm, captured through the 36-megapixel lens of a modern digital kit, but viewed through the eyes of a film-era photographer.