For once, I take full maternity photography.
Like what all happens.
I am human
. It should start with that, because these three words contain some things that I have too often forgotten. I am human, fallible, imperfect, and logically egocentric, or should I be. Humanity was delivered to me with a lot of neuroses, follies, strange and personal sensibility. They are part of the spirit that accommodates my coprs. Worse, they are an engine. Without going to call them creative, because creativity is a big word, these are the obsessions, flaws and peculiarities on edge that makes me move. I only work to overcome them. Yes, of course m'handicapent they sometimes, but they belong to me and define me somehow. They are my reason to live inside, without them I probably ever reach perfect happiness that only can maintain the routine. This is only my opinion. And then there's the other. The other decides that all his lungs should be suppressed because no one can claim to be, even what fragmentary, the fruit of his past. Another who believes so much in self-definition that ignores the path to see only crumbs dusted past non-self. The other who once despaired and withdrew from the battle with demons that are not his family and asked for nothing. That day was painful, but the door was open then left infiltrate a breeze that people feel free in their faces across the city.
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