“You can smell human agony inside of the McDonald’s there. Fentanyl smoke, a distinct odor of burning SOLO Cups mixed with scorched marshmallows, an evil scent that signals suffering is nearby. ‘War Zone’ smokers have unmistakable vocal tics: anxious spit swallows from inhaling plumes of glass [crystal meth], deep croaking from opioid-aluminum lined lungs… Still, credit where it’s due: many… are working towards sobriety. An important milestone is quitting fentanyl, tapering down to heroin.”
Frank Blazquez says it’s his duty to seize what’s in front of him “before it vanishes.” Born and raised in Chicago, the self-taught photographer relocated to New Mexico in 2010 in search of a clean slate. An optician by trade, he took a job in Albuquerque and fell in with a sober crowd, intending to break the cycle of partying and excessive drug-taking that had enveloped him in Illinois.
It wasn’t long before Frank became drawn to Albuquerque’s “War Zone”—a neighborhood permeated by hard drugs, juvenile crime, and street violence—where his old ways caught up with him. Opiates, this time. By day, he worked at the optometry office. By night, he hung out and sold Oxycontin near Central Avenue and Louisiana Boulevard; “the War Zone nucleus.”…