Berlin

It’s hard to believe that it has been six years…


The day after. © Damaso Reyes

For the first time since that terrible day, the 11th of September falls on a Tuesday, the same day of the week the attacks took place. It was a warm, bright and clear morning. The night before I was up late at a party for a newspaper and went to bed with few worries.


The view from Chinatown. © Damaso Reyes

Walking across the Manhattan Bridge after hitching a ride to the Brooklyn waterfront, I saw most of lower Manhattan covered in smoke. One of the first things I noticed when I got to the other side, and that which would linger with me the longest, was the smell. An acrid mixture of melted rubber, concrete and humanity, a smell lingered over New York for weeks. Heading down towards what would become known as Ground Zero I soon became covered in a fine, and then thicker coat of dust.


Walking towards the ruins. © Damaso Reyes

Before leaving home I wondered for a while about whether or not I should go and take photographs. In less than a minute I came to the conclusion that of course I should, I’m a photographer, this is what I do. I wasn’t excited, more like resigned. I shot that day for about ten hours. And photographed for another five days. And then I stopped.


A fireman. © Damaso Reyes


The flames continued. © Damaso Reyes

For me New York isn’t and wasn’t just a place, it was and is my home, my birthplace. The towers were older than I was and I fully expected then to be around long after I was gone. I have photographed them inside and out. I especially enjoyed going to the top of one of the towers to the rooftop observation deck. I remember the first time I went up the Towers as a child and remembering that the cars looked like toys. And then they lay in ruins.


Grief. © Damaso Reyes

I suppose that day taught me that nothing is permanent. I also knew that on that day my country would start on a path that was ill-advised: revenge. What happened six years ago can’t be avenged; the dead will never be satisfied. In those six years my government has killed many, many more and for what?


Missing. © Damaso Reyes

In the past six years I have traveled back to Rwanda, lived in Indonesia, gone to Tanzania and begun work on The Europeans. Thankfully I haven’t been witness to anything as horrible as that day in September but I have seen a thousand smaller horrors. Yet my faith in humanity remains. I know we can do better, I know that we can live together and I believe that we will. The only question is how many of us have to die before that happens.


Peace. © Damaso Reyes

Berlin

Can’t you see I’m working? Seriously I just realized a few days ago that the deadline for the Guggenheim Fellowship is at the end of the week so I am spending the better part of today, which of course happens to be one of the few nice days we’ve had in a while, revamping my proposal. Let’s hope that they are suitably impressed!

So I have decided to start a little regular feature called HCB’s quote of the week. HCB is of course Henri Cartier-Bresson, considered one of the fathers of modern photojournalism. While doing research for a story I am writing about Leica I came across several of his quotations which are very illuminating and often very funny, enjoy!


HCB behind the Leica.

“Of all the means of expression, photography is the only one that fixes a precise moment in time. We play with subjects that disappear; and when they’re gone, it’s impossible to bring them back to life. We can’t alter our subject afterward.... Writers can reflect before they put words on paper.... As photographers, we don’t have the luxury of this reflective time....We can’t redo our shoot once we’re back at the hotel. Our job consists of observing reality with help of our camera (which serves as a kind of sketchbook), of fixing reality in a moment, but not manipulating it, neither during the shoot nor in the darkroom later on. These types of manipulation are always noticed by anyone with a good eye.” -Henri Cartier-Bresson, "American Photo", September/October 1997, page: 76

Berlin

So what is it I do all day?

It’s hard to put into words, but don’t worry, I am keeping busy, mostly working on articles and looking glamorous at the Vanity Fair offices. Hard to believe that I am half way done but it’s true!

In any event, lest you think that my star has risen too high, Jimmie and I cannot for the life of us find a news organization to support our application to the Pulitzer Center to go to Kosovo. Hard to believe I know but it is starting to drive me a little nuts. As much as editors complain that they can’t find good stories here we are like the pretty girl at the bar, waiting for someone to notice us. So if you know some editors, feel free to pull some strings. Check out the proposal below…


Domestic Violence Survivor. Kosovo, 2005

The Legacy of Rape

In 1989, when the Serbian government revoked Kosovo's status as an autonomous province within the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia, political analysts and activists in that country and abroad anticipated deterioration. The danger became more apparent with each passing year, even though the wars that engulfed the other parts of the former Yugoslavia did not spill over into Kosovo. By late 1996, a previously unknown guerrilla group called the Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA) began coordinating attacks against the Serbian police. Faced with limited options at that point, the West chose military action by NATO in 1999. Taking advantage of the NATO bombing, Serbian and Yugoslav forces "ethnically cleansed" more than 850,000 Kosovar Albanians, and killed thousands more. The NATO bombing eventually forced government troops out of the province, but not before serious war crimes had been committed-atrocities which continue to poison Kosovo's post-war environment, including rape and sexual violence.

Writer Jimmie Briggs and photojournalist Damaso Reyes are proposing a feature article on the post-war legacy of rape in Kosovo and the struggle for female survivors to achieve legal justice for their attacks. Of late, the overwhelming majority of media attention on Kosovo deals with the quest for independence from Serbia, but for Kosovar women there are more pressing issues. Many who survived attacks during the war do not want to report the rapes for a variety of reasons. Some women victims of rape expressed fear that they would never be able to marry. Others felt terrified that they would be shunned by society. Many women have expressed anger at their attackers and willingness to testify at the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY). That willingness to testify is tempered by fear that their attackers may still be at large in Kosovo, or that they may return.

The piece which we are proposing will be built around the personal struggles and professional efforts of those in the legal rights community working on behalf of justice for women survivors. For women willing to testify, issues of witness protection and support loom large. Once open conflict broke out, the jurisdiction of the ICTY over Kosovo began. As they tried to ethnically cleanse Kosovo, paramilitaries often aided by masked Serb neighbors systematically searched villages for girls of prime, child-bearing age. It is estimated by the World Health Organization and the US Centers for Disease Control that as many as 20,000 Kosovar women (4.4 per cent of the population) were raped in the two years prior to NATO forces entering. Unlike Bosnia, where international organizations were located throughout the war, the Kosovar province was on its own. We hope that through this story we can begin to shed light on the challenges that Kosovo’s women face as the province moves towards independence.

Kassel

Is modernity our antiquity?
What is bare life?
What is to be done?

These are the three questions that the curators and organizers of Documenta 12 say the show is organized around. I think you can guess what my response was.


Stuffed Giraffe anyone? © Damaso Reyes

I spent most of today wandering around the five different sites of the show with my friend Anu, who is in town from San Francisco. At least I wasn’t alone in my disbelief and disappointment. Ever since I was a fresh faced undergraduate art student in New York I had heard about Documenta, the fabulous art show held every five years in Germany which broke new ground and introduced the world to artists who would change the art scene.


Shiny art is my favorite kind. © Damaso Reyes

If Doucmenta was ever like that it certainly isn’t today.


You will respect my authority! © Damaso Reyes

If the artists weren't dead or the art wasn’t made twenty, thirty or forty years ago, then the work was almost universally bad both in execution and content. While we were walking through yet another gallery filled with pretentious post-modern art, Anu proposed the theory that the curators were displaying so much bad politically inspired art to subvert the good art that is being created and thereby reinforce what is currently popular in the art world.


Bad Art! Bad! © Damaso Reyes

I can’t say that I disagree.


Harvey Keitel makes an appearance, for no good reason. © Damaso Reyes

Of course there were some very good pieces, but they were few and far between. Anu and I were in agreement that much of the best work was by artists from the developing world. Most of the new work from American and European artists was either derivative or badly made. Most frustrating for me was the fact that there was a good deal of work by artists who were either already dead or who gained fame decades ago. The show seemed to be more of a celebration of the sixties and seventies than of work inspired by today’s world.


Finally we find something we kinda like! © Damaso Reyes

A few people seem to agree.


Compared to the giraffe, this is pure genius, don't you think? © Damaso Reyes

All of this left me with some very mixed feelings. On the one hand I feel like what is en vogue in the art world today is very different from what I am producing and that fact will make it even harder for my work to gain anything resembling acceptance. On the other hand so much of the work I saw in Kassel was God-awful that I feel like there must be space for well executed art that is rich in content.

One can only hope!


I can't believe our long national nightmare is finally over! © Damaso Reyes

Berlin

So tomorrow I head down to Kassel for a few days to check out the Documenta art exhibition. Hard to believe that I have already been here in Berlin for a month and only have thirty days left to go. It never stops seeming strange to me how time can move both so quickly and so slowly. On the plus side I will be working and hopefully wrapping up a few stories for Vanity Fair this month and I will make sure to keep you post with all the details.


Protestor. © Damaso Reyes

Since you won’t be hearing from me for the next few days I thought I would post some images from my trip down to New Orleans in February 2006. This weekend of course is the 2nd anniversary of Hurricane Katrina hitting the Crescent City and I traveled there six months later to document the first Mardi Gras after the storm and the state of the city. Below you will also find links to some articles I published as well.


Mayor Ray Nagin. © Damaso Reyes


A destroyed sports car. © Damaso Reyes


Dancer. © Damaso Reyes


Derek Beard, a Mardi Gras Indian.


Read the Articles

After the Storm: New Orleans in Transition

Black Small Businesses Struggle to Survive

New Orleans and the Death of the American Dream

Berlin

So Thursday I head back to Solms!

Yes, I will be going back to Leica HQ, this time to interview Steven K. Lee, the CEO of Leica Camera for a profile that I am doing for Vanity Fair Germany. It took a little convincing but I am glad that my bosses decided to go with the story; it should be pretty exciting to talk with the man at the helm of one of photography’s most important companies. As a recent member of the Leica club it will be an exciting opportunity to check out the view from inside…


© Damaso Reyes

Let me know if you have anything you want me to ask him!

Berlin

Once again I have updated The Wish List!

I am trying to make it as diverse as possible: something for every inclination and pocket book! As people who are trying to change the world it is not enough to have good intentions, we must also put our money where our mouths are, so to speak. This is one small way to do it. Of course you can always volunteer as well!

And I really need a new light meter; I managed to lose mine in New York last month!

Berlin

I am an Artist.

I am a Journalist.

The two things are not mutually exclusive!

I am a Photojournalist.

After having a rather heated discussion last weekend about this with a friend, I figured I should clear a few things up for people still living in the land of "Photojournalism is not Art." Aside from being a journalist in the sense that I also happen to write words, I am Photojournalist, a visual journalist. If you happen not to take that phrase seriously you can stop here and read another blog.

If you agree, or at least are interested, then read on.


Bombed House, Kosovo© Damaso Reyes

I believe that I bring an artistic sensibility to journalism and a journalistic sensibility to art. Just as reporters can also be novelists, we photojournalists can also be artists. Now that is not to say that every photojournalist is an artist or that every image produced is a work of art (of course not every image a fine art photographer produces is art either).

As an artist, photojournalism is my lens, my particular set of constraints that I work through to produce my art. A painter can be a Surrealist; a sculpture can work exclusively in bronze; a filmmaker can belong to the Dogme 95 school; a fine art photographer can be a photojournalist.


Muslim Girls, Berlin. © Damaso Reyes

Photojournalism has its own discreet rules: I don’t pose my subjects and try not to interfere in the environment; I try to take images that give the viewer a sense of what it was like to be there; I don’t manipulate my images afterwards using PhotoShop to create more aesthetically pleasing images that are not true to what I saw. The point of photojournalism is to document and to inform and these are the ideals that I bring to my art.

Now as I mentioned earlier there are lots of examples of photojournalism that do not rise to the level of art; I should know, I have produced many myself. At the same time I don’t believe that all photojournalists are artists (in fact not all photographers, painters, etc. are artists either).
Some photojournalists are only concerned with documentation and conveying information. Their images tend to be simple and straight forward, imparting the maximum amount of data in the least amount of visual time.

I think that a photojournalist, or for that matter any other craft person, must choose to become an artist. As applied to photography that means making aesthetic considerations an important part of the creative process. It is not enough that the photograph informs, it must also be visually interesting, if not pleasing. In my opinion photojournalism is most effective when it rises to the level of art. The visual considerations, especially in photography, are the means through which information is conveyed. An aesthetically bad image fails to engage the viewer and thus fails to impart the information.

It is for this reason that I believe that art and photojournalism are not mutually exclusive. I think that great photojournalism needs to be art if it is to truly be effective. Of course being an artist in addition to being a photojournalist gives me a different perspective. Because I am also an artist my interests and the subject matter I choose to pursue are different than if I thought of myself simply as a news photographer. If you take the time to look at some of my work, say from Kosovo or Rwanda, I think you can see some of what I am talking about. I choose to photograph scenes and individuals that I might not otherwise document if I were simply trying to get a news story.


Remains, Rwanda © Damaso Reyes

As an artist and a journalist I feel my viewers are best served not by showing the the obvious but what lies below the surface. For me journalism and art inform each other to create a hybrid which takes the best from both worlds to create something greater than the sum of the parts.

I want my photographs to not just be visually appealing; I want my viewers to learn something about the world and hopefully themselves, which by the way, I think good art should always do, no matter what the medium. I also want my journalism to stand the test of time and not just impart information about a moment in time but to transcend the instant and become a document and commentary both on who we are today and where we are going. Hence The Europeans.

I hope that explains a little about who I am and what my motivations are. I look forward to reading your comments and getting your emails.

Hamburg

On my way back to Berlin now after a fun filled weekend in Hamburg! First I went to the Kunsthalle where I saw lots of interesting art including an exhibition about how the sea is represented in art, a very appropriate subject for this harbor town.


Art is Light! © Damaso Reyes


A Green Moment. © Damaso Reyes

Using that as inspiration I managed to spend a little time by the shore, something I miss in Berlin, which only has the Spree river to keep me company. While wandering with a friend I heard the lyrics to a song floating down from a restaurant. “Walk in the door,” the singer said. We looked at each other and decided the best thing to do was to listen to Fate and we walked in the door.


Kuno: Waiter, Bartender, Pop Star. © Damaso Reyes


The Blind See All. © Damaso Reyes

For some reason whenever I am in Hamburg I manage to go to the strangest bars and this one was no exception. Just as we arrived the band, such as it was, took a break and the man behind the bar took the microphone in hand and started singing old German Beer Hall songs. His style was rough but enthusiastic, as if doing the same thing fro decades had not dimmed him in the least. I had no idea that I had stumbled upon Kuno, the singer waiter.


Kuno has the Last word. © Damaso Reyes

Of course he is more than a waiter; he is also the owner of Zum Elbblick, located at Olbersweg 49 in case you are ever in town. When gently pressed he produced all kinds of press clipping including a DVD of a news show in which he was featured (no I haven’t watched it yet but stay tuned). He even had a CD, which of course he wasn’t giving away for free. I don’t know if it was his sandpaper voice or the blind accordion player who accompanied him but I thoroughly enjoyed my time and my reasonably priced beer!


Freedom is just another word. © Damaso Reyes


Relaxing by the Harbor... © Damaso Reyes


...Watching the ships go by.© Damaso Reyes

Yesterday I managed a quick trip to a flea market (as usual I couldn’t drag myself out of bed before noon!) as well as a trip to the St. Pauli Beach Bar. Apparently these “beach” bars have become all the rage in Europe these past few years. The idea is simple: just truck in some sand, set up a few palm trees and charge a little extra for the beer. Given the generally terrible weather this summer I don’t see how they stay in business but Saturday the sun managed to come out for a while and it was nice to have sand between my toes.

All the while of course the Leica was out and about, clicking away, and I think I got some very nice photos. All in all a good weekend!


Sunset. © Damaso Reyes

Hamburg

So while I am in Hamburg I thought I would give you guys an entry from the dead stories file. As a freelancer there are stories that you might love but you can’t find a home for. This is one of those, enjoy!

Punk Rock Missionaries in Times Square
By Damaso Reyes

New York City



“Sorry we’re late man, we were out with a friend at this bar until like four in the morning,” is not something that you would expect a young missionary to say to you but then again 24 year-old Lance Steinhibel is not your average fresh faced missionary on his first trip to New York. A few feet behind him his best friend and traveling companion Nate Smith was carrying the weather-beaten, seven foot wooden cross they have been traveling the country with up Broadway on their way to Times Square on their first full day in New York.

“There sure are a lot of people, is it always this crowded?” Lance, a resident of Kansas City, Kansas, asked a native as the pair walked through the crowd gathered in front of the Armed Forces Recruiting Station located on a small, triangular spit of land that every tourist seemed to want to be photographed on. Setting up shop in front of the Toys ‘R’ Us on 44th street, the pair were planning on spending the next three days carrying the cross from one end of Manhattan to the other, much to their dismay there wasn’t enough time to carry the cross to the outer boroughs, although they did manage to catch a Yankees game, sans cross, the day before.



“Well let’s see if we can do this in order,” Nate replied when asked how many other cities they had visited in the ten months that they have been on the road. “Seattle; Seaside, Oregon; Portland; San Francisco; Las Vegas; L.A.; Orange County; San Diego; Tucson; then Phoenix; the Mesa area; El Paso, Texas; Houston; Mardi Gras, which is New Orleans; we went home after that, we were home for Good Friday; Nashville; Atlanta; Miami; Key West; then back to Atlanta; then up to Charlotte, North Carolina; then Raleigh-Durham; and then Richmond for a day; oh yeah, then Charleston, we did Charleston before we did Charlotte; then we did D.C.; Baltimore; and Philadelphia.”

All that in a cramped, rusting, yellow and beige ‘77 Toyota camper barely suitable for driving, let alone living in.

“We get along because we love Jesus, that’s the plain truth,” Nate said with a laugh, acknowledging the tight quarters they often found themselves in during their cross country trip, the idea for which came to him in a vision. “I don’t know how we haven’t killed each other,” Lance commented.



With dozens of tattoos and multiple piercings between them, the casual observer might think the two would be more at home at CBGB’s down on the Bowery than toting a large religious symbol down to ground Zero for a prayer session, yet there they were, silently looking down into the pit that the World Trade Center PATH Station gives an excellent view of. Once they emerged into the dazzling sunlight, they took a moment to pray, then put the cross back together (it breaks down into two pieces to facilitate carrying and only took about five dollars of lumber to make), before setting up shop across from the fence that tourists have made into a makeshift shrine. Within minutes Lance was sucked into a theological discussion with a homeless street preacher/performer whose turf they had inadvertently set up on. For the better part of an hour Lance talked patiently with the man in the noon sun while Nate stood nearby holding the cross, speaking with whoever stopped by.

“Whaddya doin’?” A construction worker walking towards his flat bed truck asked impatiently in an accent located somewhere between Brooklyn and New Jersey.

“Just praying for the City,” Nate replied with an earnest smile, his lip ring glinting in the sunlight as he tried to shade his eyes.

“Oh, okay, God bless,” the construction worker replied as he got into his rig. While tourists from all over asked them to pose for photos with the cross, most New Yorkers shrugged and kept on walking.

“A lot of people get very caught up in what they think a Christian should be,” Nate told a reporter when asked how more conservative Christians responded to his Punk Rock persona. “It’s alright to go out and have a few drinks, you know? You look at the places Jesus went to and the people he was around, you know he went to a tax collector’s house? That just wasn’t done back then.

“The fact that we go have a drink at a bar with somebody enables us to relate to people,” he continued.

“I think we’re able to reach a lot of people that way,” Lance added. “People listen to us more just knowing that we’re real people, that we’re not just out there yelling and screaming at them.”



After a few hours of standing and talking in the brutal summer heat the pair walked around lower Manhattan a bit to see a few things they didn’t want to miss: the Stock Exchange, Lady Liberty in the distance from Battery Park. As Nate was carrying the cross up Greenwich Street, a middle aged Dominican street vendor abandoned his cart and took over carrying the cross for a few blocks. Inspired by the dedication of the two young men he swore that he too would build a cross to carry around the city before giving them a few dollars for lunch and hurrying back towards his unattended cart

“We believe it’s not about a religion, it’s about a lifestyle you live,” Nate said.



© 2007 Damaso Reyes

Berlin

Well I am off to Hamburg today for a few days of R&R! Not that life has been especially stressful here in Berlin but it is always nice to change things up and Hamburg is a pretty nice city. So I will catch up with you guys on the other side!

Berlin

It’s raining outside. Again.

I’m not trying to make a big deal about this but I had to wear a jacket yesterday. In August. Does that seem wrong to people? In New York it is hot and steamy and here it is cool and wet. I guess the grass is always greener….

I suppose the three people who are reading this blog want to know what I have been up to. Well, yesterday I spent most of the day shooting at opposite ends of the spectrum.

Warning: Not Safe for Work images below!


Tourists. © Damaso Reyes

Here are some images from the East Side Gallery of the Berlin Wall that I took for Christine, another Burns fellow to whom I suggested a story on the deterioration of the wall and people’s efforts to renovate it. The wall is slowly crumbling because of exposure to the elements and to tourists who can’t seem to resist the urge to chip a few pieces away. If something isn’t done soon it seems like there won’t be much of the wall left for future generations.


Another chip in the Wall.© Damaso Reyes


Hole in the Wall. © Damaso Reyes

Earlier in the day I spent a few hours shooting nudes. I know, what is a photojournalist doing making “arty” pictures? Well I do indeed consider myself an artist and a photojournalist. In addition I am of the firm belief that as an artist, and even a journalist, it is important to stretch one’s creative muscles, taking the same kinds of photos and working on the same kinds of stories not only leads to boredom but to inflexibility.


Up against the Wall. © Damaso Reyes


Peace. © Damaso Reyes

Since college I have worked on a nudes series. Because it is not what I normally do I have been rather hesitant about the whole affair feeling that unless I could bring something new to it why bother at all. Recently I decided that it was more important to try something new than to try to break new ground, especially since I am not really planning on sharing these images, they are more for my own personal growth. But I thought it might be interesting for you guys. Feel free to make suggestions and let me know if you want to pose, finding models is the hard part!


Torso.© Damaso Reyes


Chin. © Damaso Reyes

This week I hope to continue the street photography I started doing last week. Nothing special; just carrying the camera around and shooting. Berlin is an incredibly interesting city to photograph in and I am looking forward to shooting as much as I can here.

Löpten

So today I got out of the office to work on a story. As always, the universe has a wicked sense of humor. My Vanity Fair colleague and I took our rented car out into the German countryside hot on the trail of Tom Cruise.


At the Flughafen. © Damaso Reyes

First we went to Berlin’s Tempelhof airport, home to the historic Berlin Airlift as well as the flight school where Herr Cruise took so classic planes out for a spin. Then it was off to Groß Köris where we hoped to find perhaps where they might be filming. We talked to the mayor, we ate fish by the lake, I took photos in the rain.


Where are we again? © Damaso Reyes

We didn’t find Tom Cruise.

Another day, another Euro....

Berlin

So my first day of work was on Friday and I was very excited to get things started. I showed up bright and early and was introduced to the shiny, minimalist offices on Unter den Linden. White walls, white floors, white desks, white computers, pretty much white everything. The people were warm and friendly and didn’t even seem to mind my bad German, fortunately for me. There was even some openness to one or two of the story ideas I pitched, so we shall see what comes of it.


A moment in the Floh Markt. © Damaso Reyes

Yesterday and today I made my way to a few of Berlin’s famous flea markets. I picked up a few things here and there but that rare bargain Leica lens is still on the run, maybe one day I will get lucky. After spending the early afternoon in the sun (yes, it has finally warmed up here!) I met a few of the other Burns Fellows at the Beach Bar. While Berlin is not on the ocean we were still able to dig our toes in the sand and watch the tour boats wind their way along the Spree. Afterwards I met my friend Patricia, who I met at Solitude, for a quick bit to eat before she had to head back to her cell, er, I mean home in Hanover.

Back to work tomorrow but I am meeting a source later for a story I am working on, details to follow. The big question I have for you is whether I should go to Zürich this weekend. There is a big street party that I would like to photograph but I am a little on the fence, what do you guys think?

Berlin

The process of settling into any new digs is completed for me once I have done laundry and gone to the supermarket, both of which I did today. While most people love apartments with lots of light, the fact that my room has two big windows and no draperies was not something I was happy about at five o’clock in the morning when the sun began his journey through the sky on Apollo’s chariot. So I was up and up early and I did some reading, web surfing and eventually made my way to the market where I loaded up on way too much food, a relic of my days at Solitude when the market was 40 minutes away by bus instead of a ten minute walk as it is now.

The sun has decided to come out today and I managed to make my way without a jacket, a novel idea for August I admit but one I was fully dedicated to exploring. After a homemade lunch of exciting pasta, I made my way across the Spree and visited American artist David Krepfle, who has been living here in Berlin for the past year and makes some very interesting art.


Portrait of the Artist as a young man. © Damaso Reyes

I thought he would be a great profile subject so I went over with camera and notebook in hand and after a few preliminary beers we talked about his life and art. Hopefully you can read all about it in Vanity Fair Germany if they are suitably impressed by my industriousness and decided to run the story. Otherwise I will post it here but in the meantime here are some photos…


A few pieces of the puzzle. © Damaso Reyes


Hard at work. © Damaso Reyes


More and More. © Damaso Reyes


The hands always tell. © Damaso Reyes

I am looking forward to starting “work” tomorrow, whatever that will entail. It will be nice to be in an office; of course I am sure that is just when the great weather will start here. At the same time I am sure they will understand how important it is for a good journalist to be out in the field so let’s keep our fingers crossed!