peel me off like a scab, and then vote for me...

I sent that link to almost all of my contact to my online portfolio - only a teeny tiny handful of people replied - perhaps I'm to much for too many people?

I dunno.

Sometimes, I wonder if I should just fuck off from humanity - or be lucrative about those who want to stick around and gawk, charging entrance fees to the history of my life and tattoo a disclaimer on my body saying:

"warning - the following content deals with mature subject matter. Viewer discretion is advised..."

and then let them figure it out themselves.

but as a photographer - we are exposing ourselves - our visions for scrutiny to the world. And hence, like an open wound, we are vulnerable to the elements - however harsh or delicate they may be.

and the scabs keep on forming, falling off and then healing only to have another chunk of flesh removed at another time. But like the skin, i am constantly being rejuvenated by the miracle of life. Each cycle, a mystery in itself.

And as a photographer, there is no other way I would ever want to see or experience the world - a mystery in itself.