Her mass of taut and floating balloons seems heavy. The Puebla street is five layers of flaking paint visible on the lamp post. It's anxious crowds shopping slowly between the two stories of old buildings and churches and rubbish bins spilling over with taco and cemita wrapping. Among the balloon sellers and crowds you don't... Continue Reading →
"We're not people, we're brands. And I don't know how that happened."
Steve Cutts sums up the world in ink.
In Venezuela, for the last two years or more it has been hard, off and on, to find toilet paper. When I was there, sometimes a supermarket had it, but then the line up was two hours and who has that to spare. Especially because after a while of going without it, we realised we... Continue Reading →