Category: werk

about a week ago i was location-scouting for a shoot outside a cemetery.
on a road leading into the graveyard there were four men with bundles of roses capitalizing on funeral-goers forgetfulness/grief/guilt

as i stood on the hood of james, purveying angles and potential compositions, snapping test shots and basking in the los angeles afternoon sun, i pondered the waiting game

waiting on death, waiting on funerals and their patrons

i contemplated it all flat on my back, on top of my volvo

eventually, i slid off the roof of the car. one of the younger men selling flowers (maybe 20?) approached me.

“no tengo dinero,” i said
and then
“i am a man. this is for you,” he said

i drove home with a bouquet of three red roses meant for the dead