Brooklyn Arbus Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Rome

What got me? The smell – fags, cheap perfume, desperation. Made me sad, yeah, but also – bit of a thrill. “The world’s a gleaner’s paradise,” Varda’d say, and I’m living it! Nearly tripped over a bin, mind – clumsy sod – but I’m laughing, cos it’s proper gritty. Not like them suits in the office, all “strategic alignment” this, “core competencies” that. Nah, this is raw, mate.

There Is Now an App for Prostitution

I head over to the Parco di San Giovanni. It’s beautiful there, man. Trees everywhere, people chillin’. I sit on a bench, trying to calm down. Then I see this kid flying a kite. It’s all colorful and stuff, and I’m like, “Wow, that’s cool.” But then, the wind picks up, and the kite goes straight into a tree. The kid starts crying, and I’m like, “Oh no, not the kite!”

Book Review: Photographer Diane Arbus — Lingering Mysteries