Guatemala, February 2013. I walk the streets, haunt the markets, meet people, I stalk the processions, fall over cobblestones, drink copious amount of the world’s best coffee, wolf down Guatemalan food and I try and make a picture here and there. I love this place during the day and I wander relentlessly for hours. After dark this is a different very cold beast altogether as I struggle to stay warm and cheery, anxiously awaiting the return of the sun. My work is done in the sun or dusk light. Doing what I am here for, doing the work, making pictures every day.
Hunting for images, the voices in my head keeps me constant company and nags me on.
Make some pictures you loser, you suck.
I daydream of time-traveling the universe and trip over the cobblestones.
What the hell is wrong with my brain.
The warm sun burns me pleasantly from a hazy sky.
Man I forgot sunscreen again, at least my hair looks ok.
My old battered and worn shoes struggle with the cobblestones.
You know there is really more hole than shoe left in that right shoe.
Every street is a loud melting pot of chaotic activity and life.
Shut up, light is awesome, go make some work jedi, need pictures!
I buy an ice-cream and instantly spill on my t-shirt
Again, what the hell is wrong with my brain!
The wonderful Guatemaltecos smile at the towering alien, chat with me and rarely minds the camera.
Or they are too freaked out to protest.
I stare through the viewfinder, must make something, click, move, click.
Ok. It’s probably crap but it’s a picture, now, again, more.
But I really want a coffee?
No, move amigo, pictures!.
These pictures do not pretend to be any sort of coherent work on Guatemala or a traditional photo essay. I was not really interested in that. What I wanted was to make photos, and most importantly make my kind of photos for my long-term project, my journey. What I wanted was to capture some single stand-alone moments of life in Guatemala. And to stop tripping over the cobblestones.