This is the closest in many ways, I can ever come to photographing the true face of my depression. I am not brave enough to bare myself in a less abstract way. Yet looking here, you can see the darkness of it's pall, and how it has burns away the color, and leaves me stripped of anything more than a memory of life. Despite this, I stubbornly cling to existance, though it bows my head, and twists my soul, leaving nothing to see but the outline of the man I once was.
In the Depression's Stark Remnants photo essay.
2 responses
-
Deborah Wykoff said (27 Jul 2007):
And you still are living by giving so much pleasure through your eyes
-
judy fouse gave props (26 Dec 2007):
It is said that out of pain comes our greatest passions and our greatest creations.Koko
















