This was in Segovia, Spain, in July. A lot can happen in five months.
Showing posts with label segovia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label segovia. Show all posts
Sunday, November 21, 2010
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Love of Labels
buenos aires
bw
night
people
california
transportation
food
san francisco
architecture
color
sports
work
chicago
spain
nyc
vertical
singapore
airplane
montevideo
méxico
villa crespo
parks
family
peru
trees
weather
beach
fashion
malaysia
train
urban
argentina
illinois
kids
midwest
music
palermo
uruguay
abandoned
bar
car
dog
nature
ocean
rivers
san sebastián
wedding
art
boats
holidays
love
mirror
2108
animals
birds
bus
camping
france
market
subway
summer
tigre
baseball
biarritz
bicycle
brooklyn
fail
football
soccer
technicalities
technology
wildlife
yosemite
aguas calientes
baby
basque country
burgos
cars
clouds
festival
fire
lima
madrid
pamplona
sleepers
street art
subte
1225
beetle
blackout
bowling
boxing
bridge
bronx
chess
chile
church
couchsurfing
couples
death
electricity
games
highbridge park
hospitals
laundry
machu picchu
manhattan
museum
punta del diablo
school
scooter
shadow
signage
staten island
sunrise
sunset
volkswagen
wind
world cup
agriculture
ajedrez
alcatraz
amigos
anniversary
bafweek
balloon
beer
birthday
bolivia
butcher
cafe
calama
cat
cheerleaders
clothes
craft
cuba
cubs
dance
desert
detail
evacuation
farm colony
fireworks
fish
fishermen
flood
flowers
freedom tunnel
fútbol
giants
high school
horses
hotels
hudson
indiana
industrial
interiors
light
liniers
maestros
mail
material
mendoza
metal
moonrise
motorcycle
mountain
norman einsteins
oakland
officer's row
pair
parties
pool
portugal
ps
queens
raiders
rainbow
rat
religion
renwick hospital
roller coaster
roller derby
roosevelt island
san telmo
sand
santiago
segovia
snow
studio
surfing
swimmer
tattoos
theater
volcano
washington DC
westfalia
world series
Love of Linkage
At our best and most fortunate we make pictures because of what stands before our camera, to honor what is greater and more interesting than we are. We never accomplish this perfectly, though in return we are given something perfect--a sense of inclusion. Our subject thus redefines us, and is part of the biography by which we want to be known.