I was dying to hear that count.
As we passed through the gauntlet of coffee shops, clubs, and after hours bars, something strange happened. His tired delivery, his burned-out one liners, his twisted face, all turned from plain to ugly to surreal. By the end of the evening, I couldnt take my eyes off him. He made failure wonderfully stylish and reelectrified the tired, dumb, and predictable. He was the dissmissed Beatle, the glue-trapped Ratpacker, the laid off Warhol factory worker. This man couldn't make shit stink, or a fly fly. He couldnt hold a tune, or walk a straight line. Yet despite it all, there was a distinct success to his failure. Dogrun: Arthur Nersesian.
First before i show you more pictures. I actually would like to say that the picture above my lj cut, has probably been one of my favorites i've ever taken. It just shows something that i cant describe. and i love that its not even of a persons face, just the half of someones body, but yet it can still be beautiful.
