June 19, 2014
June 18, 2014
June 14, 2014
June 13, 2014
The Light for my Mother III
I remember that when I was a child and taste ripe cherries for the first time, and you were stroking me on the head and saying: little ladies does not get dirty their dresses. My hands were bleeding sweetly and truly. With you summer never really died.
These photos are dedicated to my ill Mother.
The Light for my Mother II
I remember that when I was a child and taste ripe cherries for the first time, and you were stroking me on the head and saying: little ladies does not get dirty their dresses. My hands were bleeding sweetly and truly. With you summer never really died.
These photos are dedicated to my ill Mother.
The Light for my Mother I
I remember that when I was a child and taste ripe cherries for the first time, and you were stroking me on the head and saying: little ladies does not get dirty their dresses. My hands were bleeding sweetly and truly. With you summer never really died.
These photos are dedicated to my ill Mother.
