Diane Elizabeth was a patient and willing subject—not at all self-conscious. She liked having her picture taken and was open to direction—relaxed, comfortable, and somewhat detached. She brought me up to the top story bedroom with walls of windows to the north and east looking out over the ocean. The morning was overcast. It was a perfect natural light studio with an atmosphere that told a story.
“A lot of locals don't like haole people and back then the locals really didn’t like the hippies. In those days, I was, like, totally scared of locals.They used to come through camp drunk and fighting and stuff.But when I think back at the way I dressed, I just go, ‘God’, you know. Hairy underarms, hairy legs. It was just – it was just our generation. After I moved out and they burned down the camp—I was about 21—and I started going out with local guys for like 15 years and got really into the culture, but when I was living at Taylor Camp I didn't know any local people, just surfer dudes and hippies from camp.” — Diane Elizabeth