The Mexicans (& Me)
This is a response to Squeeze the Avocado’s photo writing prompt. Thanks, Carlos Garbiras, for the heads up.
In May 2021, after six months of captivity under Kim Jong Boris, the good ship Rookster set sail. The pandemic response was getting me down, and new surroundings always inspire my photography. Mexico was no different.
They say every photograph is a self-portrait because we shoot what we care about from a perspective only we have. When we select the images that mean something to us, we reveal what makes us tick. Simply put, the camera is a lens and a mirror, and photography is an act of self-discovery.
So, in the style of Robert Frank’s The Americans (1955–57), I give you The Mexicans (& Me) (2021).
Eating with your hands and drinking Micheladas under the shadows of a tree, no airs and graces a breakfast for the carefree.
First world safetyism has been a source of frustration, it’s the opposite round here. This manhole was left uncovered for days.
If you’ve read my story Never Mind The Jollop, you’ll know I’m all about freedom. This picture depicts the antithesis of my ideal world.
Religious paraphernalia is a frequent sight across Mexico. I talk about my upbringing with faith-based thinkers in The Legends We Outlive #46.
Pinball machines waiting to be played, as in life. There’s fun to be had if we don’t get sidetracked.
Sometimes the mundanity of life breeds apathy. This unfocussed gaze says it all. Propped up on a pile of cheese that looks like cocaine for my amusement.
Seeing this guy holding a Scarface picture in the cartel safe state of Yucatan had kind of poetry to it.
A refurbed wonder of the world in the middle of an open-air souvenir market — the fakery was too much. And a reminder that we need more authenticity.
Echoes of my younger years. Sometimes your body knows when to stop before you do. Health is a wealth we appreciate with age.
Life is short folks. Losing a twin at 41 alerted me to that. In my mind, the trumpet cut by the frame is a metaphor for a life curtailed mid tune.
