RED BRICK

STAINED RED BRICK STARES AT ME.

NOT THE PAINTINGS, CABINETS AND MIRRORS, BUT THE RAW MATERIAL ON WHICH THESE THINGS HANG.

THIS EXTERIOR TURNED INTERIOR LOOKS BACK INTO MY BROWN EYES.

IT IS ROUGH AND RUGGED. THE HANGING CLUTTER CANNOT MASK THE MATERIEL CRAFTED TO WEATHER THE ELEMENTS.

INSIDE ME IS ITS BROTHER FAÇADE.

PEOPLE INTRUPT MY GAZE.

BLISSFUL MOMENTS OF BLAZING LIFE, THEY ARE BRIEF INTERUPTIONS IN MY ETERNAL CONTEMPLATION.

SOMETIMES PEOPLE LINGER. BLUE, GREEN, BROWN AND HAZEL EYES. ENGLISH, SPANISH & PORTUGUESE TOUNGES.

ALWAYS THERE BEHIND LINGERS THE MORTAR AND RED AND BROWN MOTTLED MATERIAL.