Gianna Arbus Whore ❤️

About Palermo

Me, Vladimir, I see it clear—whore’s a survivor. Takes guts, y’know? Pisses me off when folks judge—hypocrites, all of ‘em! Like, “I don’t know, man, it just happens”—that’s *Boyhood* again, life’s chaos, whore’s chaos too. Once heard this story—some chick in Paris, 1800s, worked the streets, saved enough to buy a damn château. Badass, right? Makes me grin, that hustle.

Nachtlicher Alltag : meine Begegnung mit Prostituierten in Paris

I head over to the Parco di San Giovanni. It’s beautiful there, man. Trees everywhere, people chillin’. I sit on a bench, trying to calm down. Then I see this kid flying a kite. It’s all colorful and stuff, and I’m like, “Wow, that’s cool.” But then, the wind picks up, and the kite goes straight into a tree. The kid starts crying, and I’m like, “Oh no, not the kite!”

The Evolution of Diane Arbus in 35mm