Hanoi, Delhi, and the Question of the Street
In Hanoi, I ate on the street without thinking—a bowl of pho on a street corner, steaming soup served on a low stool, never with that little internal alarm that,…
Why I Photograph
There were books, long before the camera. Thick encyclopaedias, their pages faintly yellowed, smelling of glue and printed paper. I was nine, ten, maybe twelve. I opened them without looking…
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