A Day at the Bullfights

A few years ago, in middle Mexico, working on a project about locations.

We start in PV, shooting multiple locals, then slowly work our way south.

I eat a sandwich in the airport in LA before boarding, and by nightfall, as we sit in the warm mugginess of the Mexican black, the sandwich and it’s hidden poison begin working on me.

Delusional. Visions. Toxin. Sickness. Food poisoning.

Around PV we have time to kill and we learn about a bullfight. We learn about a female bullfighter, we go.

I shoot Pentax 645, black and white, of the bullfighter, as she readies herself to do battle. It’s just me working, no other photographer, and I’m accepted. I talk a little, walk a little and wait for the light.

We have time before the fight so I wander the plaza and look for details. No real reason for these images, other than they caught my eye. This is the perfect photo moment. Walking and shooting. 645 color.

No assignment, no cause. I can do anything I want, in any way I want. The best images are most often made this way.

I will use these in my journal, as a reminder of this place and this time.

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