in the grain

I've always liked grainy pictures, or the visible grit. Kind of like the way I like imperfect noses on people, with big crooks and curves. Not that the two are for everyone, but I wanted to play with it in both color and black and white. I caught the couple above at a remote monastery where I had to hold my own breath from being shown in the icy interior. Reza is the kid below, a friend of mine from Iran hiding out and studying in Armenia to avoid the army. He makes great beets.

time's up

My friend Bex and I, along with Mr. Chuck the best dog ever. I'll once again miss the small stuff.

home

Back in the State of Texas, where dogs and people speak my language.

pause

I paid all my dues and attended well over a handful of Armenian holiday parties. I'm glad it's over, and that I'm on my way to America where the obligation level is minimal to non existent. I went back to my first village of Arzakan last night to say hello, catch up on whatever there was to catch up on, and stay the night. Walking up that long steep slope late last night, because my taxi driver couldn't make it up, was incredible. The tungsten lit snowy village that the moon was shedding it's creamy light on was the most perfect thing I have seen since being here.