self-portraits made in drunken, desperate moments eager to fight or eager to love. how may we come to speak to one another of the pain of living? about the pain which has become very much a second skin? how regular it ends up being. about the pain of the day? such quiet pains. such quiet hours. this stillness. all the hours of longing. only my eyes in the mirror. only me and my camera and no voice at the other end of the line.
and all of this for you too.