TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER
an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
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Just returned from a few chilly hours of running round town filming with Joe. Wonder when the eye becomes exploitative; I point and shoot, greedy for color and movement. Síokay to wander among the tombstones, but look away while people eat. Dogs donít care though, so go ahead and point while fat pink tongues loll free and wetly.