For the longest time I was ashamed of expressing personal emotions through photographs. Somehow I became obsessed with the aesthetic of producing only (seemingly) ideal, successful, useful, pleasurable to look at images. Of course, this didn't stop me from compulsively photographing my sorrow and joy and whatever exists in between those two.
Looking at my archive I can certainly assure that my heart got where I needed to be way before my brain did.
Looking at my archive I can certainly assure that my heart got where I needed to be way before my brain did.
