I had a friend that used to say to me, "You find the strangest people". I think that is why I photograph so many things, because the stories I tell, are the ordinary happenings in my life. Ordinary to most, extraordinary to me, because I notice the story. Now, you might be wondering why I would post this picture of a white man, with a yellow sign that reads, "cover your breasts". You have to consider what state I am in, Minnesota, during a time of year that is kind of brisk. As a matter of fact, we just had our first dusting of snow.
And during these conditions a white man, during the chill of autumn felt the stirring need to protest the sight of breasts, not just one, all of them. To be fair, I would have stood with him, if he were to ask men, to cover their man-boobs, but he spoke. It's November, and in America many do things to raise awareness for breast cancer, or is that in October? It's one of the ...ber months, but no, Bible quotes were flowing and I was wondering how this was making anyone feel good?
And in that moment I started to laugh at what was unfolding in front of me. A white man, telling a large buxom black woman to cover her breasts in the chill of autumn. And the preaching marathon began and the fingers points, necks wagging and hips shaking like a rack of lamb got loose. In other words, complete agitation of this woman who set to unleash holy hell upon a white man, wearing the yellow day-glo sign that became a bulls-eye for my camera.
How often do we go around telling everyone how the world should be, in accordance with our myopic view? What we do to each other in the name of thinking we are right is quite possibly more offensive than silence. We strip away our freedom to simply be. If we are offended, then we might want to ask ourselves a bigger question, why is our skin so thin that the mere appearance of another bothers us so much? Even if it is nearly winter, yes, dear sir, there will be breasts under those coats and a penis in your pants.
Aren't we all are naked under our clothes?
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