Honestly those Mario Pucic photos really fucking speak to me. Those basically sum up 50% off my childhood: empty roads and rest stops after dark. The French equivalent of HoJo is still basically HoJo, just with a different approach to complimentary soaps.
someone asked me the other day why mundane scenes such as these get captured over and over again in my lens. i explained that i live in a world where my heart is simultaneously being broken and filled with love on a daily basis, and i really have no words for those emotions. words escape me regularly for the things i see/hear/smell/taste/touch everyday. i see my images that way, too. maybe i can help someone else process their feelings through an image. and while this may just look like a doorknob to you, it’s my whole childhood summed up in one quiet image. and i couldn’t stop taking these images if i wanted to. it’s in me, woven into every fiber of my dna.