Chris Bishop was drinking in front of a liquor store when we met. A resident in the local homeless shelter he told me the following.
At the age of thirteen, Chris killed his father, stabbing him with a knife after a childhood of abuse. He spent the next eighteen years in correctional facilities. ‘When he was drunk and mad he would hold me out the apartment window and threaten to drop me to the street, eight floors below. He beat me and my mother all the time. I have been drinking ever since. To forget.’
When I asked how he wanted to be described, his eyes teared up and he said “I am human, like everyone else.”
I love you.
Thanks for sharing these very strong photographs and their stories.
Amazing depth of work that evokes both a visual and mental feeling. Well done. J
The pain and the poetry. Thanks for connecting me to this work. Addiction is a real sad story and I think Chris is documenting it in a very honest way.
p.s I don’t give a shiznit about what you said when how you said what, and I don’t really care that this guy is a or was a banker.
the work speaks for itself.