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Jukka Onnela – A Kind of Error
All these photographs were taken in the apartment where I lived between 1999 and 2008. I didn’t consciously document the room, or the life in it, but like in every normal household photographs were taken. Most of the images shown here were taken between 2003 and 2007.
I guess the things, that I wanted to say through my photography during those years weren’t really eclectic as my feelings and ideas about life were extremely bitter and nihilistic, even misanthropic. The reason for the self portraits shown in here is that at the time of taking them I selfishly thought that through my own thoughts and visual ideas, through my personal relationship with this world and through my own problems I could say something about humanbeings in general. It was a naïve idea, but when I was taking the images I was mentally quite exhausted and even if it has been written that photography isn’t psychotheraphy I do believe that taking photographs all the time cleansed me in some ways. I think that it wasn’t a cathartic experience, but an actual feeling and experience of being cleansed of all that I was seeing, looking and thinking. I failed as this medium is extremely limited and automatically leaves things out which means that these images are not exact documents of what happened in and around me, but incomplete and shattered simulations of those things. I failed as it is impossible to capture ones inner life into a damn photograph and it doesn’t matter how extreme the thoughts and feelings are as the photographs of them usually end up being mockeries of the original ideas. I failed as there are moments, acts and words that define us as human beings and I know that these defining moments are not in these images. All the wrong words that were spat out without thinking, all the things that were and are impossible to get in to a photograph are not here. To put it simply it wasn’t the photographs that created this story, but the life that surrounds these photographs.
There are things more important than photography for the sake of photography (or for the sake of psychotherapy) and still I have a feeling, or I hope that these images act as a simulation of certain aspects of this life even if these kind of aspects of life have been shown in a visual language exactly like in these images.
Photographs: Jukka Onnela
Website: http://smokecollective.org/
EDITORIAL NOTE (sorry, i forgot to log in)..
FIRST, let me say how much I love, respect and admire this essay. What I have loved best about Jukka’s work, as i’ve come to know it and know him privately, is the authenticity, the honesty, the directness and the commitment and conviction of his work. this is apparent in all of Jukka’s work, not just his story on his life in this cramped, light-strewned, stain-scattered small apartment. His courage and his integrity is a measure of grace that I count as one of the talisman of the photographic life. A constellation around which i’ve always tried to navitgate our photographic journey.
This essay in particular is courageous and honest and authentic. I am not only talking about the ‘content’ but the spirit and the length to which Jukka has gone to fairly describe and document and argue with the length and breath of the life he’d lived. This story is not only about drug abuse and squalor, but also about tedium and boredom, ennui and anger, loneliness and struggle and ultimately a way out of the mess, not in judgement but in recognition that, no matter the conditions, no matter what we espouse or reject, the truth is we are all ache-filled and bound to one another, this passing life. I have never seen this essay as a glamourization of this kind of life, nor is it at all nostalgic, but more simple, more straightforward: it is a crossword puzzle of an examination, an unflinching depiction and a tormented wrestling match about self.
I have often wearied of young photographers shooting the ‘glam’ ’sticky’ ‘messy’ dramatic stuff, the stuff that seems de rigeur for all young photogs: drugs, sex, music, party, the underbelly of the night bed that their parents so feared. Most of these essays (i think of much of the work done know, peopled like photographers Dash snow or the followers of Richardson, to express 2 examples), for me border on not o nly exploitation but superficiality, without having expressed the emptiness that often lay at the search for life. What i appreciate in this work is it’s tedium, it’s repetition, its refusal to visually create a hierarchy of imagery: this is better than that, this is more mad, crazy, filthy, this is more real. Yes, there is destruction, outward and inward, and there is mess and dirt and sadness and angery and drunken/stoned elation, but in a sense, the story is about the circumstances of that, of any, life lived. But more importantly, jukka’s essay is shot from the center. he isn’t an outsider making for fame or for awards, droppingto a lair and then leaving at the end of the day, but he’s in full tilt recording. He is also unspairing in his examination of his own relationship to the life, to his brother, to friends, and he leaves the strongest and bravest and most unflinching images for those of himself.
Details can be seductive, so i’ve tried to swallow this essay in terms of not the surface, the appearance, but of that which underlies the momentum of the story, the arguments inside the images, the wrestling with photography, particularly documentary/humanitarian photography itself. there are knods to Clarke and Richards and Moriyama and Peterson for sure, d’agata looms large too, but in the end, much of those heros are rejected, or argued against, in the energy and wrestlessness of Jukka’s continual ‘argument’ with visual representation. It is as energeic and questioning as life itself.
As i’ve written before, and have spoken about with Jukka many times before, PHotography fails, the images will always fail, for photographs are merely shadows, a palimpsest of dream, a manufactured thought that dares to replicate or question or challenge the real, that which defines us, makes us, carves us: this life. Photography cannot measure or record or challenge life, but what it can do, can be miraculous, can be our life’s alchemy. Photography can speak, can tell a story, can challenge and educate and detail. Photography can, in ways that often life fails to do, connect each of us to lives we had not lived or imagined or struggled with. In this sense, photography is a communicator, a bridge that may help each of us to see that which we hadn’t seen prior, though it stood there right in front of our eyes….
I am happy that you’ve spent some time with this work….
and I am so happy that Jukka has allowed us to share it with you…
all the best
bob
for bob black.
thank you for your thoughts; it has given me insight into this work. for me, it’s silent screaming.
i’d like to see him write on his images. similar to what duane michaels has done. i don’t know why i am saying this other than i have compassion for Jukka’s courage, explosiveness and need to show this.
in any case, i’ve been disturbed by this essay just thinking about the chaos of mind and environment, dignity of a human being. anne
Dear Jucca,
I am sincerely concerned about you…I really think your life should have a slower pace, a less frantic sequence a shorter edition…you might live somebody else life or maybe abolish weekends,at least,from yours…too dangerous…
SUBLIME!
luca
ps totally agree with you about photography
Kat~
That song was very fitting.
“there’s nothing but dust in the layers I’m peeling”
wow.
it sucks to be a place where the will is sucked out. soo glad i’m no longer residing there…important, powerful photography serves a reminder (to me) to keep on keepin’ on… dancing in the sun and celebrating my craft and the art of others…from the darkest to the lightest, the whimsical to the serious, the posed or happenstance moments…we are reflections of our lives…
and i am grateful. my heart is smiling :)
Carrie:
yes…..just…..yes…
hugs to u
kat~
here is a thing to think on while wading through the dying embers of jukkas past life..
i´m sure that when i think back there are perhaps 4 or 5 major happenings or times which have effected my life more than most.. a couple of them were short – one night.. a couple of days.. while others were longer – up to a year..
situations when i lent on dylans words more than most others
¨there is nothing you can get yourself into that you cannot get yourself out of¨
and now, looking back, i try to balance the good and the bad to see which events have most shaped who i am today. the good is there – as a base in reality.. a home.. since we are all born naive to the possibilities of ill-happenings.. and the bad seems to take more power to shape who i am..
not bad as in people, although some people have taught us what not to be, rather bad situations life has thrust on us which force us to change and adapt our thinking.
in that way i am beginning to conclude that perhaps i have more to thank the bad influences on my life than i would like to think.
now – that perspective may well be conditional on an optimistic outlook which allows for the creation of a light at the end of the tunnel and it may also be easier to see now, as a 36 year old who knows how to deflect the unwanted and unintended ´errors´ as jukka understates it.. still though i think back and it sometimes seems that the negatives which have taught me what not to do / be / eat remain more solidly than the positives which i thoughtlessly devour as granted.
those 4 or 5 instances of bad happenings where death, abuse, malevolence and neglect have barged their way in are just as inspiring to me now as the good times.
jukka – what have you photographed SINCE the error? how do you see your subject matter developing as a result of what you have seen yourself to be and in turning the experiance you illustrate here into a positive, where does it leave you in-yourself?
respect
david
david
notes from a bar (in) from moscow or in this case in helsinki.
i’ll try to write about this subject later but… the name a kind of error doesn’t completetly reflect my life only but all of our lives. the name doesn’t come from me but from schopenhauer who said that “human existence seems to be a kind of error”.. so i think that my photography haven’t really changed “since” these errors as life really seems to be what it looks like..
the schopenhaur quote made me smile – certainly.
i think i understand your point of view..
very little changes around us.. each moment could be seen as the same moment.. each feeling or perception we have is a repetition, on one level at least.
the overall ´mistake´ of us all being here is just as valid a way of expressing existence as any other, yet there has to be change within us as well.. even if this evolution is a repetition and the same moment as has gone before.
the changing shape of the world may be no more than the changing shape within us, yet they do occur.. and i guess what i am driving at is the hope that life has changed shape for you.. perhaps a selfish hope born of optimism, since none of us can enjoy seeing anothers pain.
does displaying the work here and on smoke collective change your perception, either of yourself or of the nature of life?
helsinki.. viva northern europe.
david
Bob Black, you save me a lot of tuition money. Thanks.
Jukka, after my initial ick response to the essay, I went back and labored through the essay one more time. It put a dark cloud in the day that I find very distracting. I don’t really want to know how people do these drug things and dysfunction; but I can watch it if there is some kind of correction done at the end of it. To leave me out there hanging with that filthy apartment and the new bed with its beginnings of corruption…
I did enjoy the way the essay began. She was fun and it did show hope in the beginning–immediately to be dashed and not elated again through the whole piece. I hope you have had a cleaner come in at least. Jukka maybe you could take a photo of your apartment now and let us see where you are. The mother and human being in me can’t take seeing young people sticking needles in their arms, living in filth, and a good amount of the time oblivious to where they are or what universe they live in.
Recently, I went through a period of asking, “And the point is?” It was a huge struggle for quite a few weeks. Listening to Coleman Barks recitation of Rumi (800 years ago they were asking the same questions!), I began to shift. He said, “Every day I think about it; and at night I say the words. Where did I come from? And what am I supposed to be doing?” I still don’t know for sure “the point” but I know one element of what we are supposed to be doing–having fun. I am working very diligently on that one.
So see your world but do something with the knowledge you gain from seeing. As photographers it is especially important for us to finish the story.
Lee
Sad, pathetic, depressing. These are the words that came to mind.
Over 100 repetative images of ridiculousness. Yikes.
Jukka, I sincerely hope your life has improved beyond what is portrayed within these images.
Cheers.
good for you jukka, if was’nt for all those knuckle heads slamming dope you’d be shit out of luck.
(gordon l, on point as usual)
Hey,
Thanks Jukka for opening up this time of your life for us. Also, thanks to Bob Black for putting words to so many things about this essay that I could not.
In reaction to this essay some people have said that they hope things are now different for Jukka. I think this is natural but I also feel uncomfortable with this. I think these hopes contain assumptions about what Jukka’s life should be about – assumptions maybe born out of what we want for our own lives. I do not think we can know what Jukka now wants for his life (these are just “damn photographs”) – maybe it is not time for hope or for a finished story – maybe it is…
Also, I hear two stories here. One is about the life we see lived – and to me, after watching this only once it communicates isolation and pain and the suffering in life. But also there is something in the telling of this story that is about cutting through these feelings . I feel there is a resilience in the taking of these photos – someone looking for something else. Maybe this is a story with hope?….
I sometimes get sick of stories that plod along the worn path of suffering, catharsis and then redemption. The suffering in these stories is tainted with the optimism of no longer being in that place of suffering. To me there is something immediate and real about this story which ends where it does.
Thanks again Jukka. Also thanks to all of you others that have put your essays up on this website. I have not commented before in this forum but have been watching and listening to your work with much appreciation.
this is fabulous work…especially with the explanation and apology. photos fail, we fail…if life were perfect we would be in a place….maybe Guatemala or Palestine…helping a person carry a load of firewood or food to their homes and then having a simple meal and laughing with the children. and if life were more perfect…there wouldn’t be the need. the isolation and self-indulgence of the people most capable of making a difference is a tragedy.
best regards…let’s go!!! say no to blindness and stupidity.!
Lee Guthrie-
I don’t know that what we are supposed to be doing at the moment is having fun…alter that, of course, we are supposed to be having fun…your point is just put in the most simplistic and understandable terms (as it should be; human beings make things much more complex than necessary)…I think my interpretation of what you meant is that we must live in the now. “Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, today is a gift…that’s why we call it the present.” Worrying about stuff that happened then is wasted energy…worrying about stuff that may or may not happen is wasted energy…All you have is the moment existing, all I have is the moment existing, all that we collectively and singularly have is the moment existing…so, why not allow ourselves to stop beating ourselves up and worry about the thoughts of others when we can rejoice in something of our own choosing?
Choice is always yours. Revel in the options and (if you so) choose happiness :)
Well Carrie, I find that fun is the only thing that is satisfying because it comes from the heart, and the joy of family, friends, photography, travel, and even talking about having fun, is FUN. Over these past few weeks I have had company out the wazoo. Talk about fun. And all that come into my home and enjoy the hospitality of me and my family, have fun, even if they are in the midst of a personal hell–which several of them are experiencing.
So, fun is a needed element if we are to survive. Because life is to be enjoyed. And when you experience enjoyment it is fun. So fun is where it is at. And it does have something to do with the philosophy of be now. Forget the troubles, hang with loved ones, party, and kiss. Lots of healing and good karma happen when you are having fun. Some people choose fun like Jukka’s essay represents; I don’t. With this world in the state its in I am ready to see a story that starts out like this but has a happy ending. A fun one.
Lee
* 19 is wicked …..
i keep thinking – this is an interesting piece of work and conversly one which i want to wholeheartedly discourage, since furtherment of the project itself is so much to the detriment of the photographers health :ø)
My first time through, I only watched the slideshow. (I say “slideshow” purposefully, as I don’t believe this is an “essay” of any sort.) I did not read the photographer’s words. I like to let the images speak for themselves (or not) and then, if words are indeed included, see what the photographer has to say.
After watching the slideshow I thought: sad, depressing, pathetic.
After reading Jukka’s words, I am left thinking: Complete bullshit.
I am left feeling the photographer wants us to look at (or does he really?) this collection of images to see the shit he lived in, to see how unworthy he and his photography is, that he “failed”, that his photography “fails”, that moments cannot really be captured in these images, failed, failed, failed…. please look at my failed images! Ugh. Bullshit.
While John Donne’s words about being diminished by the death of other men for being involved in humanity is something I feel sincerely–and that is why I hope Jukka’s life is not any longer like these photographs–I am just not able to get too emotional about posturing dilettantes sitting around trying to be profound and deep about something so utterly shallow.
And yes, now I wish I had never read the words. Remind me not to do that again! ;^}
Michael:
I have to say that the leap between NOT liking something and calling it the work of a dillettante is, well, disheartening…it is unfortunate. Not that you dislike the work (that’s your perogative), but that you judge Jukka’s character (”I am just not able to get too emotional about posturing dilettantes sitting around trying to be profound and deep about something so utterly shallow.”)….
Information about Jukka’s life, family history, childhood, etc, is not necessary for the acceptance of this work, for if the work failed to convey anything for you but ‘dillettantism’ that it has indeed failed. Or is this your failure? It’s a difficult calculation. However, if you knew the story of the life that pre-dated this worked, you would be ashamed of such harsh language. That’s the problem with both work and the viewing of work. Our failure of empathy, our failure to see the world or experience the world but through our own muddied prism.
If this work and his life were merely spectral games played by dillettanes, I would not have chosen it.
Anyway, all the best.
bob
Well, Bob…
You are correct. Unlike you, I am not intimately connected with the fellow’s past or even his present. I do not “know him privately.” I only “know” his words and images. What the words and images convey is what I was speaking to.
Michael:
that’s the difficulty and problem. I am not at liberty to talk about the life prior to the work, but suffice it to say it’s reflected in the imagery…but, anyway, the problem is always one of empathy and i understand your reaction (and that of some others): we are inundated with images of young people photography their party lives, faux nihilism, wealth as scattered grunge, all that….all i can say is that work is different here, and that is always the difficulty: how to separate the authentic, the ‘deep’ from the artifice…there is no way to truly understand…no right answers :))…but for each of us to try to see…but i believe it is important for us, especially as photographers, to try to not disdain (calling someone a dilletante is quite harsh, and i know you’re about as harsh a person as I am a sexy guy ;)) )…but, what is important:
discussion…that is also what i’d hoped Jukka’s work would elicit :))
all the best
bob
Sean V: welcome – good post!
Best wishes,
Mike.
jukka. I dont know you. I dont care in the least about you. I am not sincerely concerned about your welfare. i do not think you need to have fun. I DO NOT want to hug you.I am not at all interested in your past or present history….but. You do have a potentially powerful set of images here and i am interested in them. There is an emotion in there that ‘I’ can get at. I dont care if anyone else can or not because my job is to satisfy my needs and not to map others needs for them. I am glad i saw them.
John
Lee! I wholeheartedly agree! It’s not uncommon for me to jump up and down for no reason, burst into dance, and laugh at my own expense often. Laughter is infectious and is definitely fun…as is kissing! Hugs and kisses and laughter and dance…makes my soul smile. But…I also know that we need to go through some sludge to get there sometimes…self-acceptance is something that takes some more than one life to achieve…those of us who are there revel in the moment… and create fun. Kisses to you, Lee! And to all!
Bob,
Thanks for that. I do wonder though, I had no idea you were the one who brought this essay to Burn. I did not know you knew this photographer, that you were close, knew his character. I wonder because of this if there was a moment where you thought maybe you should sit this one out? I guess I mean, most people who drop an essay or single pic in here don’t have the luxury of having you–a strong, well known presence in these pages–as a sort of benefactor. They have to do it cold, take the criticism–positive and negative and all in between–with no one in essence “being there” for them. Know what I mean? Just wondering.
As far as “dilettante” goes… in the interest of peace, love and harmony here at Burn, I retract it. Nothing else mind you, but I really don’t want one word to be focussed on too much. It’s clear from you that it’s not quite the right word.
Peace.
Michael
“sad, depressing, pathetic” – three words are all you could combine about the photography itself? And then simply by using commas…
Bring it, man. Why do you feel this way? Why such a negative reaction? It’s obvious from your reply you find the whole thing to be “bullshit,” but I’m curious about such a visceral reaction. Pictures evoke mostly feeling in me, I suck at any kind of formalist critique, but we had two completely different reactions — and I’m curious as to where you’re coming from.
(And don’t worry, bobblack has everybody’s back whose been published on Burn, whether he knows them or not)
**Disclaimer: not an attack on you, bob**
I was want to thank you, Jukka, for saying what you said about photography. It was a good moment, a good feeling to have read that.
Jukka! Please start shooting birds…peacefully
SUBLIME!!!
ps. the word dilettant exist in all the languages with some latin roots but fortunately in all these languages it would never cast your work
Good times! Ha!
Disturbing and amazing essay. I think John sums it up best above – dispense with the hugs and lovey dovey for a minute and just look at the images.
I always find the fact that humans are the only animals that will willfully live in their own filth fascinating. And to have the wherewithal to document it is taking it to another level…..
My favorite photography book is Ray’s A Laugh. This reminds me some of that. Not as many truly memorable “moments” though – this is more of a grinding down through repetition process. Nothing wrong with that….
Michael :)))
Yes, that’s true, and a VERY FAIR question! :))…I actually thought a long time whether or not to sit it out (for bob black, a long time ;)) ). I’ve actually tried to write only 2 things: 1) just a public support and thanks for Jukka sharing the essay and 2) an Editorial Note. In my capacity as Editor-at-Large I will DEFINITELY not comment that much any more (maybe only for support or clarification). I will definitely not ‘argue’ with anyone anymore (people smiling, saying ‘thank god!’ ;))). I will though, on the essays or single pictures i help bring to Burn (there will be more), comment as a kind of ‘editorial’ comment. I hope my point wasn’t argumentative, but trying to offer something for you to reflect (I admit, it was kind of hard to see the ‘dilettante’ thing, but i know you are a kind and thoughtful person and photographer, so i took it related to the pics).
Anyway, i am still trying to figure out this ‘role’ with David. I still will write at Burn..and I will also write and contribute ’short’ essays as well. I will also try to bring to the readership work of a wide variety that will be interesting and spark discussion. I will not be the old Bob black, but i hope a quieter one. I dont know yet exactly how to do this completely, but i’m trying to figure this out :))…but, for the greater part, i will not jump into ‘arguments’ about pictures, that is for sure. I’ll also be looking for, recruiting and trying to help David recruit writers too :))…
Anyway, I am HAPPY that you wrote…for me, the value of work is it it ‘challenges’ people to think or react, either strong or ill. that’s all i hope for. But Jukka can speak better about the work than I :))
cheers :))
bob
way, as stand alone stuff, as well as bring to Burn photographers (pics and essays)
Hi Jukka
sorry for the belated comment. i hope you still listening.
these pictures are very disturbing. i cant call them beautiful, wonderful. they made me feel very disturbed and profoundly sad.
they’re very powerful in their anger. tormented, they shout right into my face, just like your mouth bullet hole.
they threw me off my comfortable spot here by their vulnerability under the thick cover of despair, cutting through the skin, burning it.
i could feel the pictures, knowing nothing about your life. they’re your loss and my loss too.
they flew me into this plague stricken place from another side of the world and made me want to hold someone weeping. im sorry for your loss and for your failure with all my heart.
Bob,
I knew this long ago… but I feel I must say it anyway… you’re a stand up guy.
Cheers.
Jared,
I suppose I could have been even less wordy and only used one word–like you (”tremendous”)–but I went with three. ;^}
Of course we both actually used more words than that and I think they pretty well say enough… for now.
Later.
got internet eventually…
FUNFUCKINTASTIC…
Trainspotting……….
brilliant……….
Thumbs up…….
Michael —
Hey! I put together at least 3 sentences. :) Seriously though, you’re first post is fine to me, but the second… I detect a subtext of moral superiority there. Calling someone’s work “complete bullshit” is cool — as long as you back it up.
I just don’t think you have yet…
Jared,
Why should I have to back up anything? These essays are laid out for critique–both positive and negative. This is not a scientific theory in need of evidence. Should I ask you first to “back up” your “Tremendous” remark? (no, of course, I should not.)
And honestly, I think the words that follow “complete bullshit” are sufficient. As was the conversation with BB. What you seem to be looking for is out there. Seriously.
I’m gonna let it go Michael, I don’t want to be that guy. I was simply asking for some clarification on your reaction. You think you’ve been clear. Obviously you haven’t (I don’t get where you’re coming from), but I’m not looking for a fight… maybe later.
As far as my remark, tremendous, you keep referring to. I was referring to the feelings that the essay invoked in me, what I wrote about at the beginning of the comment.
Making a quick comment in support of a work or against it is one thing — making a long comment, calling it “complete bullshit, … utterly shallow, posturing,” etc is a different thing altogether. I’d love to hear where you’re coming from (honestly) beacuse I don’t get it… That’s it.
When I first saw this I nearly lost my breakfast. After the first images I thought where is the error in here? A few more and I knew this is not my scene or the kind of work I like looking at, but it was obvious from Jukka’s name that he comes from Finland, as does my passport, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt and watched the lot. It was worth it!
Brutally honest and a real eye opening trip to the dark side. Definitely the most disturbing set of images I have seen from Finland. As a hardened photojournalist I wouldn’t raise an eye brow if the pictures were from Estonia, Russia or even Sweden, but these are from a ‘Utopia’ where things like this are not supposed to happen, or if they do, you most definitely don’t document them.
In the Finnish art photography scene there is a strong tradition of self portraits. Jukka’s work is strong and real, so it will be interesting to see how it fits in…
All the best
Petteri
Ps. For the non Finnish-speakers, according to google Onnela means Utopia!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1XrvpEIiC1w
good ol’days……..
thanks again J…!
Thank You All for the great comments,
i enjoyed reading all of them.
peace
j
fish swim among the trees
trapped fish
it’s a question of being alive
not the depth of the water
thanks Jukka from the etrouko
saule spīd
Jukka
You have been on my mind.
This essay has been rolling around in my mind because I have sons your age who play at the same kinds of shit. Thankyou for being brave enough to reveal your self to us. If my comments sounded harsh or judgmental it was only coming from a place of concern. You played with fire and got “burned” figurativly speaking, pun intended.
Gordon L.
Jukka
This strong essay reflects what you are,
sincere,
curious,
radical,
sensitive,
visionary,
challenging,
rebel,
realistic,
honest,
courageous,
in a few words a real photographer,
and I’m proud to be your friend…
Ah… I forget, also endearing…
hi Smoker,
*Honesty*, this word feets you well.
(i’ll bring a tent for 7 on july)
PATHETIC. A WASTE OF TIME. HIS & MINE.
take up writing if u think u will do a better job of what ur life was, u already have a fab following :)
R
Kind of terror
Eventhough I do not like all of these pictures (Jukkas scars and burns and dick are not my favourite things to look at), I love them all (especially as a set) for their honesty, dare and spirit! And the text is finally as good as I have waited for from You.
Still, I think, as someone else said above, now it is time to photograph some birds..
peacendove
t
Awesome shit! That appartment and these photos, brings me vivid memories of some disturbed years…
Worth that second look……….