The Hangout

ALASKA'S BLUE ICE





Oops

Too much love can land you in sticky places.

WALKING INTO THE SKY

I get out from inside of myself, out of my study, of my home, out from the streets, from among tall buildings,  billboards and bus benches, to the foot of a mountain, then up, only up, climbing so high there is nothing left but the sky-- to walk into.

Morning Commute

Grace and Beauty

A shaft of light gifted this butterfly to my lens.

Self Portrait

Mayan Temple, Tikal

Twigs

This is how we journey on, over and through the brittle twigs of time.

Poetry

Poetry is a steep and perilous journey within... towards a beautiful terrible unknown.

Despair

Sleep is the only escape. But even then, dreams’ labyrinths are not to be trusted.

Blue on Blue

Guatemala. Three young girls. Exchanging gossip about school and boys. Or perhaps sharing dreams. It's always the same. Regardless of poverty and circumstances, there is always this. This inward dive. The light that glitters on blue.

How do you commute to work?

The village laundromat

 When I was fourteen, I lived with my aunt in Trinidad. We used to wash our clothes in such tubs, then hang them up to dry. The wind from the sugar cane field across the house would blow through, puff up the dresses, skirts and sheets, dry them crease-free. 

Heading for the hill in Chichicastenango, Guatemala

You point your boat towards your destination, and your destination points itself towards yet another journey.

Death

Soup

Just Arrived... Antigua, Guatemala

Together in Guatemala

Alone in Guatemala