Some in Slab City call the outside world Babylon. And wandering around the makeshift homes of these residents of this harsh and barren desert, it seems as if they will go on as if nothing happened if and when Babylon falls.
Perennial Slabbers build their homes out of pallets and discarded items unwanted to outsiders while snowbirds bring there Campers down for the winter. Artists erase any lines between life and art, while the tweakers surround themselves with garbage. Fires, both intentional and accidental, are common on the slabs. What else to do but rebuild.
I made 21 portraits of Slabbers, as well as documented the everyday stories as they unfolded in this strange place. The last free place in America.