Shooting coffee cups and flowers are fine.... but this is my real passion. In the moment a bull makes his first charge I feel like I´m witnessing two paths that were always destined to cross. It´s the subtle things that I notice.... The way the bullfighter bows his head out of respect while crossing himself. How his left hand rests gently on his hip while he patiently cajoles his nemesis. The way he bites his cape, like a small boy, while waiting patiently to be noticed. And how his feet stay planted when 500k of beast rushes past within inches of his heart. It´s like watching a graceful dance unfold where each pass, step, stance is drenched in history. And where, done well, a bullfighter will survive.
Bulls live really long and happy lives. Much longer than any cow, pig, or chicken. ...
I wrote this in response to a blogger cheering because a bullfighter was gored. Just wanted to write something in response... to be out there floating around the cyber world.
This is just my little opinion. Not worth a second thought... Really.
I´m a vegetarian.
I knew a girl who was blue. So she painted her world pink. xoxo
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