Jack Hinzo is an English student at San Diego State University who writes and takes photos in his spare time. He enjoys cold mornings, hot coffee, and spending times with his cats.
Connect with Jack on IG: @jackhinzo
I have these cowboy boots that I probably have worn more than any other piece of clothing for the last 3 years. They were my dadâs from the 80s. When I was a kid, they sat on a shelf in my room, looming over me. They never fit me as a kid, so they stayed on the shelf.
A couple years ago, I was doing some spring cleaning, and there the boots were. I tried them on, they fit, and that was pretty much the end of it.
Iâve worn them at least 3 days a week since then. Thereâs near holes in the soles, scuffs on the points, and tears at the tops where you pull. Iâve bought 3 other pairs of boots that Iâve worn right through since then. Soles have come completely come off. Parts of the leather rip and tear exposing my socks. Dadâs boots are the only ones that seem to last.
I used to drive a 1990 Lexus es250. It was my grandfathers car, and probably the most valuable thing ever given to me. Not to say the car was particularly nice. Panels were falling off, the passengers side door didnât open from the outside, and it perpetually smelled of old man cologne. I remember one January, it was so cold the condensation actually started to freeze on the wheel.
Its coolant pipe blew up on the I-8 two years ago, and that was the end of it. The car was so old they stopped making replacement parts for it.
I drive a 2023 Kia forte now, but I still miss driving that Lexus, feeling every pebble on the road, listening to radio stations, messing with the cigarette lighter. Waiting for the windows to defrost.
I think the last remnants of real San Diego reside at the trolley stations. The San Diego I grew up in was so much more diverse and mixed. My neighborhood had all types of people, now itâs mostly rich whites or the navy. When Iâm riding the trolley, I see every one on there. Working class people getting to work, sports fans, businessmen hopping in and off to different parts of the city. Itâs chaotic but itâs nice I think. Definitely not boring.
For a long time i didnât want to leave San Diego. Everything felt so dense and bigâ It would take me decades to explore every nook and cranny. Now, Iâm not so sure I desire to delve into every city corner and street. The older I get the more I want to crawl out of my city, into other parts of the world.
With all that said, however, Iâm not really sure where Iâm gonna end up. I could see myself coming back after a while, I could see myself living in another part of the country, in the other part of the world.
My dad is a San Diego native. He grew up in national city, and lived there for most of his life, excluding his baseball years. Mom was from a old mining town in PA, who became a flight attendant. They met on an airplane, actually.
I think my Dad liked San Diego passively, he didnât think or talk about it too much. My mom loved being by the beach, that I know. We went to the beach every day for a whole summer one year.
I am my mothers child, thatâs for sure. We think the same, laugh the same, stress out in the same way over the same things. We get mad at the same things. My Dad and I keep organized and have similarly strict schedules, but I think we do it for different reasons.
I think he finds peace in keeping a regimented routine. I like to have an orderly schedule so my mind can wander throughout the day.
Everyone says I look like my mom, and I kind of agree. Weââre pale skinned skinny people.
Sometimes I look at old photos of my dad, though, and itâs like looking at a mirror. Same smile lines, same hair parting. Freaks me out a little bit.
There is a small park near UCSD. My boyfriend and I kissed there for the first time. Every time we walk past it we stop, think, take it in. Enjoy each others company. Itâs nice. Feels very pure to me.
Imperial Beach (mind the pollution)
Las Americas
Michael Crawford, 11th grade English.
I donât.
I was a small child when Horton Plaza shut down, I think. My grandma loved the Chinese restaurant in there.
There are more assholes than before. That might be everywhere. Padres fans are my favorite sports people, that will never change.
I think about my high school teacher Mike Crawford a lot. I wonder if I would have the same taste as I do now if it wasnât for him. I met him when I was so young, itâs hard to say. He was definitely pivotal in my life, though.
When I took a Polaroid of myself with a group of people a few years ago, it was the first time I realized how sad I was. It was a combo of where I was in the photo, the way the light reflected off my glasses, and most notably, how vacant my expression was. I think then I realized photography can show emotion unlike any other medium. It reproduced a vacancy and sadness almost exactly.
When I look at photos of old friends, with me next to them, I can look into my own eyes and see, remember how I felt in that moment, whether it be sad, happy, longing. I took a self portrait 2 years ago and looking back at it, looking at how my eye bags fell and how the corners of my mouth stretched, I saw a profound sadness.
I think photography is a lot like looking in a mirror and seeing an old, or sometimes just different, reflection than what youâre used to
San Diego is a happy city. Not a lot of grit. I think I might try to overemphasize the melancholy that does exist here. The cold nights, the dirty streets. The parking lots with garbage and cigarette butts.
Polaroids are my absolute favorite types of photos.
There is a vintage quality to them, but in my opinion thatâs superficialâ anything shot on old hardware will have that.
I know people are âgoodâ at Polaroid and can get consistent results, but there is always going to be something that distorts the exact image, at least for me, and I love that.
You canât redo a Polaroid. Thats thrilling for me. What it prints out is what you get.
Absolutely!
Recently I dropped my Polaroid and broke it, and all of the film in it ended up as double exposures. Some were trash, but a couple were kinda crazy looking. I liked that.
I like photographing people. Everyone looks so different, and itâs nice to be able to capture part of their essence in a photo.
I am not a particularly superstitious person, but I never take photos or post people without their permission. I just kinda think thatâs bad form.
I have no process! Pick up the camera as soon as you get an idea and then shoot.
Do you think art is more about observing life or living it? Where do you draw the line?
I think I try to capture whatever Iâm feeling whenever I am feeling it. I like looking back on photos and remembering where I was emotionally then. I think itâs about living and observing in that regard. I have to live through it to shoot it, and to observe it in the future.
Are you really that good looking in real life?
No, Idk. I think above all else I just want people to be able to look at my photos and enjoy them at whatever level they can. Maybe how it makes them feel?
I journal every week, and am pretty good about it. I picked up the guitar a couple months ago and am slowly but surely improving.
I love reading. I really could read every day if I didnât have other more important things.
I have no precision, I think. Itâs probably really inefficient , but I am ok if a shot looks garbage after development. Thatâs life
Look at all of these little corners of the world, all in this one city.
I would shoot at the 12th and imperial trolley station. Itâs where every corner of San Diego convenes. A lot of stuff goes on right there between people.
Teenagers are in the pivotal part of their lives where they are deciding on who they want to be. I think in a way I want to help them figure that out, whoever that is.
Take it easy on high school, it never was, and never will be that serious.
I hope you started to relax a little bit. Look around and see how many people love you. then say you love them too.