A while back I mentioned that Luke shot for an upcoming issue of VMan on July 18. One photo from that shoot has been released on “V” official site.

EDIT: The same editorial has been added to VMAN official site too. I’m confused. I official give up trying to understand the people at V/VMan. The photo in the gallery has been replaced with a bigger version.

I believe that the spread (titled “This is not here” and also featuring other Los Angeles artists) will appear on one of the following issues:
- “V” #62, released  around November 1, or
- “VMAN” #16, released around November 11
or it could just be an online feature that won’t be published at all. We just have to wait an see what happens.

Gallery link:
- Photoshoots > Colin Donahue for “V”/”VMan” (1)

Here is the brief article accompanying the photo:

Luke Grimes, actor, 24, photographed at Duke’s Diner on the Sunset Strip

Shirt and pants Adam Kimmel
Tank Gap

On American gothic:
I used to live in Hollywood, smack dab in the middle of all the hustle, two-minute walk to Sunset—living in all that can be manic—one minute you feel like you’re 15 feet tall, then all of a sudden you feel like you’re part of the virus. I just moved out of all of that to Eagle Rock, which is this budding neighborhood, with all these great bars and restaurants but with absolutely nobody in them. It’s a total ghost town. I have a house and just beyond my backyard there’s a cemetery. Coming home feels like a real place, no Hollywood helicopters or traffic. Looking out my window at the cemetery feels like another place entirely, like Ireland. You almost want to see dinosaurs. I love walking through the cemetery—when you see so many headstones you almost want there to be some kind of absolute truth, which is so much of what L.A. is about. It’s American gothic.

On the concrete landscape:
Before I left for L.A. I got a job pouring concrete with my sister’s husband. It was actually one of the most incredible experiences, building something with your hands. I’d work my ass off lifting, pouring, working until your arms give out but there’s a satisfaction with making something by hand and seeing it done. Driving by weeks, months later and knowing you built that. Like a monument. We made driveways, sidewalks, patios, back porches, real parts of peoples lives. In a way movies are similar. You’re building a project, a character day by day by day by day, and a year later you get to see it, something that started from an idea that you breathed life into. You’ve created something that you know is going to be there, somewhere in the back of peoples minds.

On riding through the desert:
I went through this period where my best friend and I would go out every night. We would go out, get so drunk that we couldn’t make a rational decision, a couple times after the bars closed then he would drive me out all the way to Las Vegas. Once we got there we would just crash and come back in the morning. That time was really important to me—the rush of going ’til you can’t stop, making bad decisions, only living once. When I was a kid I used to feel like, Why can’t we just keep driving, past our house, past our exit. And with my friend we just did whatever gave us goosebumps. We never really saw Vegas, it was about leaving Los Angeles, then the long drive back.