in no particular order: dirty hair, roosters, wind, face wash, joy.

I’m home from Nicaragua, and so far have watched many hours of Saved by the Bell, eaten a meal with the housemates, created a giant pile of laundry, and showered without the use of a bucket. On the plane, I tore the same picture out of five of the same inflight magazine, imagining some future project without details.

When I travel, I’m determined not to be a tourist, which is easier in some situations than others, this trip being an example. Photography is and should be complicated. In some ways, my journal is my camera, and when it’s not, I want to  take pictures that are  subtle and weird and gentle and strangely necessary.

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the farm: Cooperativa de Proyectos Agropecuarios de Diriamba (COOPAD)

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my bed, otherwise known as the Mall of Chanel, because I like to be able to see all my stuff at once.

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late afternoon in our bunk

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chorito the cat

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