are flashy but with a dose of melancholy. They are vivid but with a pinch of funeral's glam. The colors of New York are always trustworthy, but so unfaithful to your eyes. They are confusing but also mindcleaners. My snapshots were meant to capture the moments of irritating beauty. A wall can be a canvas to build a dream. A horse that i used to find in children's bookpages. The lights that follow your eyes to the direction of my own avenue. In New York, colors can be shoes, flags, hotels, flowers and opposite. And then is when i need my way out to life. I take the keys, i find the fuchsia exit, i drink some sex and music and i crash on the contradictions. These are the words made of my pictures.
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