Wild Man. Easily the most charismatic Indian of St. Joseph’s Night. Protector of his chief. Protector of his tribe. Protector of his people as he stood directly in the path of cars over and over again as they tried (and more often than not, failed) to push through the crowd.
He is the epitome of taking up space, I loved him for it and told him so. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but I think the pictures he gave me were his way of loving me right back.
where i wandered:
where joy wanders 