Time has passed but my memories are as strong as ever from my time traveling in Myanmar. All the wonderful, colorful smiles, among old weather-stained buildings and brightly painted walls. Construction workers flirting and joking in the early morning light and two small children cuddled up next to each other as their parents sell fresh fish in the streets. Crossing the Yangon River to the Dala township and feeling like these small wards were from another time as a mother used a bucket of water to bathe her baby boy and another used her hands to feed rice to several hungry mouths. Sometimes I like to take a break from my travel photography and then revisit them. It gives me time to digest and reflect on all of the crisscrossing of colors and faces and experiences. Sometimes I need to catch my breath, to try to make sense of it all in my mind before trying to verbalize, to others, what it is truly like. I always feel like I fail, I hope my photos help.
