Favorite Photographs: May 2003
Sat May 31 2003
A man, looking battered and dazed, sat slumped with his back against a building. His knuckles were cut and bled a little. He had tattoos on his hands. He breathed the way sleeping people breathe. I crouched down and watched him from about ten feet away, aware how bizarre I am to passers-by when I do things like this.
An old woman approached me.
"Is this our city?" she asked.
"Yes," I said, shrugging my shoulders.
"And just look at this scum!" she said, jerking her head over at the man slumped against the building. That's all she wanted to say to me. She walked off. I took the man's picture and then I too walked off.
Sat May 31 2003
A man, looking battered and dazed, sat slumped with his back against a building. His knuckles were cut and bled a little. He had tattoos on his hands. He breathed the way sleeping people breathe. I crouched down and watched him from about ten feet away, aware how bizarre I am to passers-by when I do things like this.
An old woman approached me.
"Is this our city?" she asked.
"Yes," I said, shrugging my shoulders.
"And just look at this scum!" she said, jerking her head over at the man slumped against the building. That's all she wanted to say to me. She walked off. I took the man's picture and then I too walked off.
