Something happened the other night that upset me in a bad way. I hadn’t lost my sense of peace like that in so long. I had completely turned from the person I was just a few years ago: lonely, a closet depressive and plagued with anxiety, but something set me back if only for a moment. I shook myself out of it and refused to let that take hold of me again. Since realizing the expressive power in self-portraiture as an art, I was able to channel all that anger and sadness into my camera in a way I was never able to do with my paint brushes. So I looked into the lens and I started crying. I was so angry I started crying.
image and text © Wild 2015
blog: My Surrounding