I'm not going to lie, I was feeling somewhat proud, now I can go and take a relaxing stroll.
As I walked, I kept thinking about the countries I had visited without a picture to show. Denmark, Christiania comes to mind, East and Western Europe not forgetting Zimbabwe.
If I had captured the shock on the faces of those East German school children, as he saw a black person close to them for the first time.
Had I captured the fears in the eyes of that Russian man. as he look from left to right, before discreetly placing some marijuana in my hands. Reminiscing about scenes that can only be viewed, in the archives my mind.

How many times I've walk on stage to say:The music of my heart is roots music. Music which recalls history, painting a picture of illusion, something that was not real.

I know where I've been , where I am and where I'm going, looking forward to the dance hall, to practice photographic art. Four days to work and the weekend off, the Soca dance will provide me, with lots of movements and colours. This week will be different, instead of synchronising with feet and body jamming close to mines (125 at f8 will be numbers stuck firmly in my mind).