Somehow I’d forgotten the feeling of getting a brand new toy. The foam padding, the smell of the plastic bag, and all the surrounding act of unboxing.

But all the toys in the world don’t mean anything if they remain static.

I don’t know when my toys began to serve as tools of my craft.

Here’s a shot from a recent project I have to do a multimedia piece on.

A man dying from AIDS is being fed his last meal for the day

For some reason I don’t feel like posting the rest of it online.

There are somethings that are just for me to take and assimilate.

This is not for ego or pride.

This is for me.