the girl developed a habit.it wasn't initially about shoes. it was all about feet. the places feet find themselves - or take themselves.like anonymously beneath a bathroom stall door, defenceless and probably cold from standing on tile. or dusty with sand in a foreign country, subjected to heat and warm salt water,shells from unfamiliar creatures and shards of glass from the broken bottles washed up on shore, their messages long dissolved. the girl and her camera, somewhat subconsciously, began to document feet. seems like they're attachments, strange growths to
cover with warm, waterproof and sometimes pretty shields, before using
them, without thanks, to live our lives. when's the last time you
thanked your feet? the girl thought feet deserved as much glory as faces. |
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