Wednesday, April 10, 2013

photojounalissssp asshole

The Plan was to see what was happening. We we're on top of the valley and we wanted to see what it looked like to see everyone down below.

We were privileged enough to have been flown to the top of the world. We were at the right place at the right time when we just happened to make it on the flight!

My mother asked me to take some photographs of everything I saw. My father was a murdered photo journalist that was killed in the Kongo. He died a horrifying death. He wasn't the only one, there were others like him, but that's beside the point. The photographs meant a lot to the community.
Most of the people I grew up around were basic, they had never seen anything outside the boundaries they were trained to maintained. I was always able to set myself apart from that.

The Idea was to get as close to the edge as I could, I thought it would be easy. I thought there would be some sort of protection.
When we landed I quickly took off, left the team behind. It was so easy for me to leave them. It's like they wanted me to get lost.
I did, and sure enough, while taking pictures from the top of the world I fell in. I fell back to where I belonged. I remember tumbling into the world and thinking,

I wonder what my photo journalist father would have done?

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