The Last Persimmon of Winter

The fiery orb is a vision. Perched high above the heads of passing silhouettes it stares back into a black landscape sketched out by the fresh snow. The ornament on the grey tree unnoticed. It sits lonely on a branch illuminated by the adjacent streetlight. Snow falls gracefully unaffected by its presence, just as it has seemed unaffected by the weather for all these months.

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Flamboyant Shirt Man

Less than three minutes on this bus and the world around me instantly transforms. From the quaint rural city peppered with tall apartments to flat farmlands lining the kempt Korean valleys. And in a few minutes we will reach a small village’s single bus stop at the bottom of a highway exit ramp. And every day, expectantly, I see him.

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The Increasing Apathy of Fashion: Sights From Seoul’s Fashion Week.

In a crowd filled with seemed like every other person was lugging a camera with telescopes on the ends of them, I stood as flocks of models and photographers passed by with my own camera at my hip that looked like a point and shoot you bring on a family outing. But this was Seoul during Fashion Week. Everyone here had high powered lenses, the genre almost requires it. And here I was, not intimidated, but unexpectedly excited, searching with my eyes for something to shoot.

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