Girl in Front Yard, May 2009.
Man on Stairs, May 2010 | we were walking to a store down the street where he was standing. while we were at the stop signal for walkers on the corner of the street, i frantically said to my friends, "looks like i'm getting cellulite!!!" as we walked back towards his place, i saw him seated. i walked over to him and asked him if i could capture a couple of photos of him. his response was a surprising, "ME!?" i laughed lightly and said, "yes! you!" as my shutter began to sound, he strikingly said, "i can't believe your doing this!" with a smooth chuckle following the statement. i asked him, "why? you're very photogenic, you know." in great disbelief, he said "really? i've never heard that before. thank you. and you don't have cellulite!" we both laughed together. shortly after, parted into our separate lives.
Fernando, May 2010 | i was granted the chance to meet Mr. Fernando as i was capturing some fun shots of two friends. he had been trekking along side of the same sidewalk we were and he passed us, smiling and nodding his head. i wanted so badly to get a photo of him, and my friends said, "go ahead, go ask him before he gets to far!" i turned around and began jogging in his direction saying "excuse me sir!!! excuse me!!!" he turned around and said, "yes?" i asked, "do you mind me snapping a photo of you, please?" he said, "no." as i was snapping his photos, i said to me in the best english he could coated in a strong latin accent, "you're beautiful. you're very very beautiful!" he smiled easily at me and i shyly responded "ohhh, thank you!" he told me "take care." i said, "you do the same!"
Nathan, May 2010 | i will never forget this man. i honestly do think about him, sporadically. he was young. fresh. ripe. he had just arrived to this park. he came from a town not too far from houston, i think he said killeen. i cannot quite remember. but he walked up to us and i handed him a sack lunch. he said thank you. we locked eyes and i saw a moving ocean inside. his eyes were enchanting. captivating. wondrous. i told him with the deepest sincerity, "oh my, you have beauuutiful eyes!" he smiled with coy and replied, "wow. thank you. i have never heard that ever before." i said, "are you serious??? they are just beautiful!" he said thank you again and began to talk to us about a scripture he had been reading. he had a few detached pages from the Bible that he had been reading. at the time, he was reading the king james version of isaiah 54, i believe. and he gave me a page. i felt so honored. i walked away to go speak to a man that was under a tree not too far away. while we were speaking, he asked of my name and i told him. as i was departing, nathan ran up to me and said "take care of yourself, it was nice meeting you, Jasmine." i was overwhelmed and i said, "how did you figure out my name!!!?" he said, "i overheard you tell him." i gently smiled at him and said, "you take care of yourself as well. i hope to see you again." he said, "me too."
Man with No Words, May 2010 | i wondered what his story was. why he had been out there. why he spoke only through his eyes and not his voice. why he lingered around, silently. just listening. to what we were speaking about. why he didn't make any type of movement when i snapped this shot. why he was in no opposition of it. why he stood there. on the concrete. with his hands behind his back. looking at me. i wondered.
Cecil, May 2010 | he had been shot in the stomach, in the head, and in the mouth. he has falling from a building. and he is a retired veteran. making the best of his life today, he took time out to share with us, in great detail, all that he has endured in his life. laughter still tranferred from him to share with us. even a smile. he managed to tell his story with much strength. he was like a thick chapter book, the height of a skyscraper. he had so much to tell. he talked, and talked, and talked some more. but we listened. he poured into us the message of unmerited favor, grace upon grace, that his life is still existent because of God, who has a purpose for him in this life. can you imagine living with a hole in your mouth from a vicious bullet that was made to kill and not scar? he's living it. and he is still alive.
Josephine, May 2010 | lovely lady. i remember her, vividly. her words crept through her sleek lips so lightly, so shamefully. she was ashamed. she didn't want me to think she had no home - "it's only temporary", she said. i asked in a pool of curiosity, "how long have you been out here." she replied quickly, "not too long, no, not too long." we exchanged more words, and as i positioned my camera properly inside of my town palms she said to me, "do i look okay?" i removed the camera from my face and replied in full honesty, "yes, you're beautiful" as she continued to tickle and comb her hair in a certain way, to ensure that she at least felt beautiful. and hands, looked tired. old and wrinkled. as if she has labored for so long, with no break. laid out behind her is a sleeping body.
David Simmons, May 2010 | piercing eyes. i came to know this man for about 7 minutes of my life. we were riding down pease street, i believe, en route to serve those who were seated outside of a home without care or food. we came to a stop Light and i glanced over to my left and saw Mr. Simmons standing right next to the car i was in. he looked hot. he looked uncomfortable. i asked the person driving if i could give him a sack lunch. they said yes. i jumped out of the car, lifted the hood of the trunk, rummaged through the box, yanked a brown bag out and handed it to Mr. Simmons. he then said, thank you, very much. as i jumped into the car after the Light had turned green, i thought to myself, "this man's throat is going to be as dry as a desert, he doesn't have a beverage." i asked the person driving if they could pull into the gas station that was no more than a hop away, jolted into the store, grabbed a bottle of water, paid for it, and ran out as if i had stolen something. i was in search of this man. and there he was, at the very same intersection. standing wearily, i said, "excuse me sir, here you go!" he then said to me, "thank you. so much. you came just in time. i really needed some water. thank you, babygirl." i smiled. hesitantly walking away, i turned and asked, "do you mind me snapping a photo of you, sir?" he said, "go right on ahead." i asked him of his name, he said, "david simmons. my name is david simmons." Mr. Simmons recited his name to me as if no one had ever cared to ask of it. he said it with pride. he said it with a slight tone of grief as well. most importantly, he gave me his first and last name. there's a great significance in that gesture. i thank God for that Light that said stop and not yield. had it not been for that Red, we would not have had the chance to serve this man. and by looking at his hands, i could tell he had been an extremely hard working man. i still think about you, Mr. Simmons.
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