Well, someone must stand up for wrinkled clothes! And I have volunteered, too willingly, to be that very person. But this shoot is not about the waves that texturize clothes, it is a tribute to the wrinkles that attempt to trace the pulse of our lives, and that breathless exit we call death.
And yet this shoot is just another way of stilling, in act, a chant that has been ringing my being for days now. It goes like this:
Please GIVE me your kindest N!
and GIVE me your sweetest A!
please GIVE me your courageous N!
and GIVE me your most beautiful A!
AND WHAT SPELLS?!
N A N A!!!!
I love you woman, and you know it is the sort of love that even death cannot woo breath from.
You were and are a glorious BLAST!
–
A
