Through photography, Chambi found himself in conversation with the two cultural identities of Peru—Spanish and indigenous Peruvians. His photographic legacy is somehow still potent and representative of communities of people born out of tension.
I was six or seven, and I stood a little ways from my father, who was grasping the handle of a small navy suitcase in one hand and, with the other, knocking on our bathroom door. His face was stoic, unmoved by the reality of being cast out, exiled from us.
Midge Maisel's strong-headed, Jewish-mother persona resembles your bubbe who nags you to nosh on a third helping of kugel and gefilte fish. However, she is to be reckoned with as she emerges as a comic who is not afraid to hold her middle finger up to the patriarchy.
The floor is sticky with stuff you can only hope is beer and everyone is standing in front of their seat, talking with friends or strangers and jiggling up and down to the music in a sort of awkward pseudo-dance.
A shadowed mass stumbled out of the reeds. A skunk, pawing at nothing in particular, winced at the sun and shook unsteadily under its own weight. Rocco, always playful, nosed the creature while dancing around the dazed animal.