There wasn't much by way of decoration on the walls except toward the back of the cafe was this fantastically weird, life-size painting of a really short cowboy(really, its true). He looked lonely back there all by himself so I asked the fellas if they wouldn't mind me hanging some of my photographs, you know, to keep our vaquero company. I am still working through an edit of black and white work from the Sequatchie Valley in Tennessee so I decided to hang a selection from the series.
So if you find yourself on the bustlin' and multi-cultural corner of Atlantic and Nostrand Ave in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, please stop in for a pastry and a teleport to Tennessee. Tell em Shane sent ya.