Whenever I go away for a while I think about time and the inevitability of it. Depending on the day I try to hurry it by or let the days drip by slowly; either way there is never more than an endless present and sudden end.

When I’m home again the memories jumble and mutate so that the only place they remain linear is in my photos.

I saw this horse a few weeks into travelling Colombia. I was feeling exhausted but about to catch a second wind of energy that would carry me through South America. At that point the trip seemed unending.


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