Or, should I say rewind to 1955, can you recall the name, James Dean?
An American classic. A short-lived hearthtrob with a legacy that is forever remembered and an iconic name of entertainment. But this adventure isn't about Mr. Dean, it's about Caleb. We decided on using his first and middle name (which he goes by) because, well two firsts name just sounds cool, right? (IMG/Ford, you're welcome.)
But this ride began on a sunny Thursday afternoon. It was a survival week for me about six shoots over six days, and I was dead. Caleb was on it, steady and ready to go. The vision for going back into time for a mid-century western idea came about after a dream I had on Sunday morning. I pictured a classic red convertible driving down highway 77 with a man in a leather jacket, cigarette and he was just a rebel without a cause. Sounded like James Dean but also it needed a twist of the All-American look, here comes Caleb.
He is the epitome of calm, cool and collected and a natural. We took off with no destination in mind, just knew that I needed to hit the road jack and never come back. After about an hour of driving, I saw these two spots that drew me in, I went with my gut and turned the car around and we landed in these hidden gems of Spicewood. We never thought we'd find all we needed to pull this off and but the good Lord helped us arrive and provided more than what we needed and from dawn til dusk you're about to take a seat and soak in all the Wild West nostalgia.
Meet, Matt Caleb
With my Utmost Joy,
Bec