Below the knee, Greg Wilson looks like a cowboy. From the waist up, he could be an urban hipster: patterned scarf around his neck, an orange Penguin softcover tucked into his coat pocket.
He drives a red pickup and didn’t own a camera until his early 20′s. Wilson is the sort of American I love to meet abroad. The type who let travel expand their identity, softening them into something undefinable, beyond national stereotypes.
The kind you could meet in any bar in the world and wonder, Where are they from?
Wilson and I catch up over ciders at Flanagan’s Irish Pub in Spearfish, South Dakota. Originally from the state, Wilson currently lives and works as a windsmith in Wyoming. He’s back in town to arrange a photography exhibit at Black Hills State University.
“All photography is, in essence, trying to capture a moment,” he explains. “Something that can encompass everything, bring you back to a moment in time.”