Trying to avoid sunburns and find some grime amongst the French Riviera's glam.
Senior portraits for an absolutely stunning girl.
Sunday is market day in Chichicastenango, a Mayan town in the mountains of central Guatemala. Rising above the bustling market chaos is the pristine white Iglesia de Santo Tomás, a 16th-Century Roman Catholic church. It sits on an ancient mayan temple platform––18 steps for each month of the Mayan Calendar. Women gracefully dance up and down the stairs, selling flowers like celestial beings handing out tickets to God. Petals cover the ground and burning incense mingles with spices and floral perfume. An otherworldly experience.
My fingers and my memories are sticky with apple cider. We toss the little apples into the blades, where they jump around like carbonation in soda. My dad’s calloused hands crank the century-old family heirloom in synch with laughter and the wind. Every fall, I look forward to this day of garlic-planting and cider-pressing and nostalgia. Thinking about who-knows-where I'll be next November, and trying to savor the tastes and smiles.
A compilation of photos from the past 6 years of sticky hands in truck beds, trampolines, and tree houses.