First angle.You were barefoot.They held a gun.You held a knife. Not even.You kept walking.They fired.You died.
I cracked it’s spine. A brand new volume of words as infinite as seas. I drowned as the sun rised, gasping for more.
Sent to friends asking what to do in NYC. Specially good on rainy days.
Someone passed through my life and touched it ever so slightly. She created a new tangent line that forever change my path. And she left us…
I did it again. I told myself I wouldn’t. I told myself: “It’s time to stop. I’ve done it enough times. Stop it.” I asked myself: “Aren’t you…
Actually, I’m not all that interested in the subject of photography. Once the picture is in the box, I’m not all that interested in what happens next. Hunters, after all, aren’t cooks. — Henri Cartier-Bresson
A piece of paper with a Dali’s eye stares at me. It floats like my dream of turning it into a tattoo. But I have been cultivating other…