Wild Horses by Summer '07 contender Erik Hagen.

"In the past couple years I have seen a great deal of America in a transient way," says contender Erik Hagen. "Cars, planes, motels, hotels. Ups and downs in a sense."

All I can think about now is Simon and Garfunkel's "America", which is my favorite lyrical interpretation of America, more so than the interpretations offered by songs like Springsteen's "Born in the U.S.A." (which is no less awesome, by the way,) or Don McLean's "American Pie."

Kathy, I'm lost, I said, though I knew she was sleeping I'm empty and aching and I don't know why Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike They've all gone to look for America

Hagen's point of view on America is like that of a matured Huck Finn. It is adventurous and romantic, yet still proletariat and shrewd. He says, "I've seen America in a new perspective than in my youth," and goes on to explain how his eye matured:

I had the privilege as a child of going many places in the country on vacations with my family. I saw the great national parks out west. I went to the Smokies multiple times, fishing for trout in small, stocked pools and panning for gemstones in fake tourist mines. Seeing the country in this way, the way so much of the middle class sees it, is to view a spectacle; it is grandiose and there is no denying the massiveness and the awesomeness of the spaces when viewed in this manner. As I got older this pure vision became stained, I went from my hopeful view of childhood to something more dark, truthful, and humble.

When I was young the sky was filled with stars I watched them burn out one by one

"I feel these few lines best represent the feelings of my recent pictures," explains Hagen. "A group of work where I point my lens at America with an awkward irony, and then celebrate it with all the glory my youth had shone upon it."

Reading the Zevon lyric, I can't help but be reminded of that famous Kerouac quote from "On the Road":

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars, and in the middle you see the blue center light pop, and everybody goes, 'Awwwww.'"

Both of those lines have striking images of bursting or falling stars--I guess that's how I free associated the two of them. But, who better to quote on the topic of America than Jack Kerouac, right? Essentially, it was Kerouac and co. that made me realize I wasn't an American outcast for not having grown up in the Midwest, via family car trips to national landmarks. It was through them that I understood America to be a concept, or more of a state-of-mind; America was also about about tenement rooftops and music--it included me. It was about finding a place for yourself, working hard, and enjoying life even harder.

Whew! Aside from all that America mumbo jumbo, I must say that I really like today's photo, and I mainly put it up because it really disturbed me. I felt really confused when I saw it--confused about the point-of-view, the staging, the darkness. There is something really creepy about how this horse's body is the focus of this image amid the darkness of the night's sky. I have to say that I really can't stop thinking of Peter Shaffer's "Equus", which is the story of a psychiatrist who is trying to treat a disturbed young boy who has a pathological fascination with horses. The play is based on a true story of a teenage boy who blinded six horses, and was recently revived in London this past year, starring Mr. Harry Potter (I mean, ahem, Daniel Radcliffe). If you haven't read it, please do! It's one of the best modern British plays out there.

Now that I have spewed out everything I have to say, I will leave you with a little more about Erik Hagen.

I am 22 but often say 21 when asked because I forget that i have turned 22. I grew up on a man-made finger island in Florida. The island sits in Boca Ciega Bay between St. Petersburg and Treasure Island. I spent most of my time as a child fishing. I attended an art magnet school from the third grade until I graduated high school. By the time it came to choosing a major at RISD, I was rearing to leave the studio behind and avoid the pretentious delusions of the painting department. Photography allows one to look to the world outside the studio for more honesty and intrigue than they could ever hope to conjure up locked in their own mind. I abandoned the notion of creating a tableau entirely, and instead sought to venture out into America, in order to find images that represented the thoughts I harbored about it.

Bye-bye, now. And, once again, how many times do I have to tell you to submit yourself to the Summer edition of Hey, Hot Shot!? Just enter now. Thank you.