Raindrops draw expressionist masterpieces over the town-hall columns, erratic droplets ricocheting off marble. The drizzle stops momentarily as he breaks out of conformity and routine, an artist absorbed in their masterpiece, free to all those within earshot.
Freelance and editorial
Traveling the Karakorum Highway from Kashgar up to the snowy peaks of the Pamir mountains our clapped-out thirty-year-old car sets a speedy pace through the windy lowlands, the peaks in the distance promising stories and adventures in equal measure.
Watching the empty landscape whip by I see the occasional lone digger in the desolate landscape breaking ground on yet another future Chinese enterprise. With no a/c and temperatures reaching 40 degrees every window is down, our heads hanging out like dogs in the wind. Pulling a Nikon I start to focus on one of the lonely bright yellow caterpillars as it approaches on the right side of the car, we’re topping 70mph but the sky is blue and the sun is blazing so hitting a target like this isn’t rocket science. We pass the beavering contraption uneventfully, a slight sigh from the overheating Nikon, nothing exciting here.
And then a sudden rush of noise from behind, a honk on a horn, the revving of an over-worked engine and a motorbike passes us at over 90, stampeding the melting tarmac as if behind schedule. My camera leaps out the window with me closely behind, hanging a full half-body out in mid-air. White noise takes over. Fighting against the ravaging wind I heave the heavy black SLR up to eye level, it’s already focusing before I compose, eager to capture the majestic scene ahead, and for a second the Nikon’s happy again doing what it does best.