The Story
Wet, slobbery, windblown and undeniably happy. I finally get it. I now completely understand why my dog sticks her head out the window. The above image, taken in 2005, ten years ago of myself by Jim Noelker (my father), exhibits a happy, goofy and very windblown nine year old- at least that's that's the way it would appear. In reality, I had just been ripped away from everything I had ever known. It was the worst day of my life. It was the day my family and I packed all of our belongings into a U-Haul, I hugged half my family goodbye, and my dad and I set out towards Ohio. It was awful. I had never seen absolute nothingness for miles, I had never been away from my cousins for more than two days, and I had never not been able to hug my mom every minute of everyday. As a nine year old, it was my worst nightmare. Yet, something happened in that moment- that precise moment when my dad rolled down the window, the wind caught my hair, and all I could do was laugh. Nothing was wrong. I forgot the world. I was so happy. Sticking your head out the window is bliss, its relief, its pure joy. During my second semester of art school I rediscovered that photograph and it inspired me to do a series of my own. Windblown.
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