October 14, 2012

Sven, from Malta

A timid little person approached me while I was photographing with friends in Hosier Lane, in Melbourne, a couple of weeks ago. He politely asked me what I was doing. I asked him if I could take his photo and he replied saying, only if I can pose for you. He told me he was from Malta but had lived in St Kilda for some ten years. His accent was strong and thick but with a unwavering sense of unease in his throat. He smiled, greatly into the camera, his smile making his cheeks bunch up around his eyes, skin crinkling from years of laughing in his home country. I told him how I thought he looked lovely and he said that he liked my dress a lot. I told him to relax, and feel comfortable infront of the camera. I told him to think about his family in Malta and how much he misses him. He told me about how they gathered around a big wooden table each night to share a meal with three generations, and I hoped that one day I could cook a meal for that many people and be completely surrounded by my family. He thanked me for taking his photo, we shook hands and parted without anything more than a name and a small memory in time. 
Some people are truly beautiful.


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