twenty one december 2013
this moment: my grandparents live in the mountains, and we visited them. my mind was growing darker, for reasons i didn't know then, and i wanted to get away. my camera and i hid in the garden, in this bower, until i could face being a person again.
breathe is a series of moments in movement from life. the lens is at the eye, the movements are the lungs. what is a truer way of capturing how you are in that moment? only what you see, the rising of your chest in living, its simplest continuation. the in. the out.
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