The boys were getting high most of the time and spent their nights dreaming up grandiose futures on their Valencian street benches. One of them was called Alvaro. He grew up a ballet dancer and despite the though exterior he projected onto the streets, he never fully succeeded at hiding his gentle nature behind his eyes.
That night he told me about his father's battle with Alzheimers. How he was struggling to accept that many of the family burdens he carried on his fragile shoulders would never see the opportunity of reconciliation.
He spoke so softly and when I clicked my camera to eternalise him in this moment, he exhaled, his eyes welled up and a thick fog of smoke and suffering filled the air around us.
It has been years since our last encounter but this photograph always takes me back to the vulnerability of the moment and serves as a constant reminder of the fragility of our human spirit. My younger self learned that night to never judge by a cover, a lesson I haven't ever forgotten since.
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Valencia, Spain
March, 2014
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