While on vacations I was walking in the old city center of Recife in Brazil, when I stumbled upon a homeless man, who had drunk his life into oblivion. I stopped to talk to him. Surprisingly he engaged in a friendly talk with me. There was a woman with him, but she went away very angry, having seen that I had a camera, and warning me not to shoot her.
I actually asked this man if he wanted to be photographed; he said yes with a large smile, which lasted only as long as his answer. The smile was replaced by silence and a expressionless face – as if he was posing for me – marked by numbness, lifeless eyes, rough skin and deep wrinkles. The only shining part were his lips, still showing a bloody red color, proving him alive and still a human being, despite so much self-destruction.
You may find me overly sentimental – and you will have to deal with it yourself – but my heart aches and my stomach revolves, when facing human beings, who are still living in the streets and in this abandoned state, while I am not. I want to keep feeling that pain. And doing what I possibly can to change this situation.