Dirty Deeds: Archives from the 70's

A shoebox full of my dad's old photos.

I came across my father's old shoeboxes full of film photographs a few years ago.

While rummaging, my elbow knocked against an old, rusty cardboard shoebox. It tumbled to the ground, spilling its contents — a veritable jackpot of photographs, like something straight out of a movie.

My dad is a wild son of a b*tch. He's the kind of guy who rides motorcycles, starts his day with a drink at 9:00 AM, lives without a bed, thrives on 12-hour workdays, and installed a hot tub right in the living room. His skin is as rugged as the Colorado rocks he scaled in his youth, and his hair is as wild as his untamed heart. Without a doubt, he's one of the most eccentric characters I've ever known.

Here's a collection of photographs taken during his heyday. If you've had the pleasure of meeting the man, you won't get through a conversation without him saying something about how 'the 70s were the best times of his life.'

My father will never admit to being an artist. He's never taken a professional photograph in his life, only happy accidentals with his 35mm film camera, which everyone else owned back in the day. What you see below directly reflects how simple and beautiful life can be when you let it be — a whirlwind of never-ending fairytales of our existence. Well, that and a rusty car.