Hot Dog Lunch refers to my last midday meal during Houston’s
Covid-19 lockdown in April. With nowhere to go, alongside nostalgic cravings for childhood comfort food, the objects and activities of my life came into sharper focus. Every afternoon for about two weeks, I photographed my lunch, as well as my porch view. The taco truck and beer store across the street didn’t change, though the sky and light did. The smallest domestic changes felt massive. Things I’d done every day before heading into the world, like showering, became savored ends in themselves. The grass and plants in the yard became wild and slowly evolving scenes. My hair grew and demanded attention.
Getting the empty trash bin from the curb felt like an accomplishment. Later, during our self-imposed summer/fall lockdown, we started watching local TV news to track the now skyrocketing daily case counts. But aside from my near daily modest depression paired with largely unfounded existential dread, my wife and I suffered no significant consequences. We remained healthy. And unlike millions of others, Kate lost no income teaching from our spare bedroom. These pictures helped me examine the comfortable container of my life during this strange time while reflecting on my extreme privilege next to so much pain, in a countrynot my own. — Brent Reaney, Houston, TX, July 2020