A desert is a place without expectation.
– Nadine Gordimer
11:01 November 29, 2016
Out of Los Angeles and past the cities of the eastern plains, through the forest of wind turbines to Palm Springs, a midcentury vision of paradise: palm trees and pools, clean lines and cocktails, a particular time and a place preserved under the desert sun. The art of the enclave.
11:38 November 29, 2016
Paradise comes from the Persian word paridayda, meaning walled enclosure, then flowing through ancient languages and gardens into Eden. Garrett surveys the garden of earthly delights from the roof of the Orbit In's designed confines. Ariel slips out of her road clothes and into a one-piece and silk robe, cigarette and drink. She joins Garrett on the roof, vamping for the blue skies as Steven's shutter clicks away the seconds. Cenit emerges from her room in a pinstripe suit, ready for her permanent vacation. Nate lounges against a backdrop of succulents, slowly leaving yesterday behind. The present buzzes with possibility, blurring the edges of everything.
14:22 November 29 2016
Irene is poolside, the reflections of the surface dancing like diamonds in her sunglasses. The pool is the center of the Palm Springs universe; with the afternoon sun high overhead, the girls never stray too far away. Spencer and Nate change into resort evening attire, trying on different looks and different selves. They begin to venture further afield: exploring empty rooms, the kitchen, the foothills, never losing sight of the camera. In the long shadows the sun gets no play and everyone picks out their favorite optical styles, readying for their closeups.
16:20 November 29 2016
The late autumn sun falls behind the mountains, bringing a chill to the desert. Irene and Ariel throw on jackets against the cold and walk along the roof, barefoot. The day turns lazy, fading into dusk. The palm trees slowly dissolve against the darkening sky and everyone disappears into their rooms, changing into their play clothes for cocktail hour, for dinner, for the bonfire, for the smoke and the toke and the rounds of tequila at the Tiki bar.
10:17 November 30 2016
Soft sounds from behind closed doors, shy smiles and cleared throat good mornings. Coffee, then another, bagels and fruit, makeup and hair, another look for the fallen kids. Sunglasses and Advil / Last night was mad real. The sun is already high; the day is yesterday, perfectly resolved, just echoed. The desert is a nothingness, and in nothingness there is a sort of perfection. Long bodies stretch out on lounge chairs.
13:03 November 30 2016
One last dip in the pool for Cenit and Irene, caressing the surface of the water as if they could convince it to come home with them. The oasis must be left for other travelers not yet arrived. Garrett's slouched in the bathtub for the last image of the shoot, of the collection, of the season. He's tired, everyone's tired; a full day behind us, a long road ahead. These pictures will go in a book, the book will go in stores, and in the stores people will look through the pages and tell themselves a story. And life will become art.
Great art is horseshit. Buy tacos.
– Charles Bukowski
Special thanks to Steven Taylor, our fearless photographer; to Ariel, Cenit, Irene, Nate and Spencer; our hosts Orbit In; Tara, Jenna, Laine, Taylor, Anton, William and everyone else who helped.
