Chloride, Arizona. www.chlorideaz.com

I have been going to Magic every year for over ten years. In February 2007, I decided to get out of town and explore the wide open, sun baked nothingness of the Arizona desert. Roughly three hours from downtown Vegas - heading due east, past the Hoover damn and far away from almost anything resembling modernity, sits Chloride. Part Ghost Town, Part Mining town, part living art project, this place is forgotten.

Things seem honest in the desert. The sun and the void demand the truth. There are less places for lies to hide, yet everything seems to hold secrets. The conditions are harsh and unforgiving. Roads lead no where. There as one bar, a post office and one store that sold Christmas supplies. Metals and are weathered and eaten alive by the wind and time. The textures and colors here dont appear in trend reports or fashion mags. They are honest and exist only to serve themselves. The architecture seemed to organically grow from the remains of anything that wandered into Chloride. Everything seemed both lost and perfectly placed.

If the Devil lives in Vegas - God vacations in Chloride.