Warriors
These warriors aren’t ancient, neither they do war.
Yes, they might have the strength from their past but they stare deeply into each other eyes. Kids that are being put to test and taught how to fight for their lives.
These moments were captured in Bangkok, in January 2016, at the Lumpinee stadium where every week young fighters confront each other on the ring, with the enthusiastic support of their families, team and a crowd of avid for gamblers. The screams don't bother them, they have much more than money at stake.
Warriors
These warriors aren’t ancient, neither they do war.
Yes, they might have the strength from their past but they stare deeply into each other eyes. Kids that are being put to test and taught how to fight for their lives.
These moments were captured in Bangkok, in January 2016, at the Lumpinee stadium where every week young fighters confront each other on the ring, with the enthusiastic support of their families, team and a crowd of avid for gamblers. The screams don't bother them, they have much more than money at stake.
Warriors
These warriors aren’t ancient, neither they do war.
Yes, they might have the strength from their past but they stare deeply into each other eyes. Kids that are being put to test and taught how to fight for their lives.
These moments were captured in Bangkok, in January 2016, at the Lumpinee stadium where every week young fighters confront each other on the ring, with the enthusiastic support of their families, team and a crowd of avid for gamblers. The screams don't bother them, they have much more than money at stake.
Colin Jones & The Delta Revue
Walking into a space of performance and creation is exhilarating, I carefully watch my steps as I join the creative process of this amazing band, I don't want to disrupt the flow, only hoping to be part of it (for a moment in time).
The music flows through the cords, inaccessible to my hears but I can feel it. The energy floating in between the musicians, each one of them focused on their very own personal way, each of them diving into their own introspective world, all of them belonging, simultaneously, to each other's spaces.
The studio is a space empty of apparent harmony, filled by the beat of dry drums playing in a vacuum. Me as an observer, in my own microcosm, trying to capture a silent and sensorial insight into the not tangible.
The inaudible, as if the clash of distinctive universes can only be captured fractionally.
