SEPTEMBER 2015

$2.50

September 2014 was a special month for me. A borderline month in many ways. An extreme month.


A month when I still haven't understood which forces were bound.
It was a month when I had access to police records. Where I touched the violence of the street, of the gangs, of the rot that waters this place. A month of debauchery and poetry of darkness.


My photography was nourished by Lynchian echoes and Japanese drifts.
The monochromatic pushed to the extreme consequences.
September 2014 represented a point of no return, yet I came out of it.
Looking back now at that intimate and personal diary, it appears distant and yet close, because already there one can glimpse visions of things to come. Thank you for buying this book.

Welcome to the theater of pain.


PDF BOOK, 35 PAGES

CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE THE PRINTED EDITION

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September 2014 was a special month for me. A borderline month in many ways. An extreme month.


A month when I still haven't understood which forces were bound.
It was a month when I had access to police records. Where I touched the violence of the street, of the gangs, of the rot that waters this place. A month of debauchery and poetry of darkness.


My photography was nourished by Lynchian echoes and Japanese drifts.
The monochromatic pushed to the extreme consequences.
September 2014 represented a point of no return, yet I came out of it.
Looking back now at that intimate and personal diary, it appears distant and yet close, because already there one can glimpse visions of things to come. Thank you for buying this book.

Welcome to the theater of pain.


PDF BOOK, 35 PAGES

CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE THE PRINTED EDITION

September 2014 was a special month for me. A borderline month in many ways. An extreme month.


A month when I still haven't understood which forces were bound.
It was a month when I had access to police records. Where I touched the violence of the street, of the gangs, of the rot that waters this place. A month of debauchery and poetry of darkness.


My photography was nourished by Lynchian echoes and Japanese drifts.
The monochromatic pushed to the extreme consequences.
September 2014 represented a point of no return, yet I came out of it.
Looking back now at that intimate and personal diary, it appears distant and yet close, because already there one can glimpse visions of things to come. Thank you for buying this book.

Welcome to the theater of pain.


PDF BOOK, 35 PAGES

CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE THE PRINTED EDITION