In leaving Mexico I made the poor choice of shoving our film into my checked luggage, after multiple security checkpoints it came out a wash of overexposure. But I still love some of the damaged images.
Mexico was a love affair, a first time crush that held our hands and kissed our cheeks and left us red in the face. Its only fitting that the pictures we took reflect the stumbling blur of that first love. We had our own corner of the world for one week, and we fumbled with words and miscommunication and forgot our suntan lotion and drank too much and overpaid for small things and we loved every second. For one week we were 16 years old again.
