By Katarina Hybenova

By Katarina Hybenova

Text and Photos by Katarina Hybenova

I feel the look of a large yellow red head from a drawing of James Marshall on my shoulders and on my chest. It’s heavy. My throat is dry and swollen. It somehow gets harder to breathe freely when standing in front of the drawing. I feel the pain, disappointment, temporariness, desolation and surrender. She’s […]

I’m sitting on a bench on Bogard Street, sipping my latte and observing crowds emerging from the Morgan subway stop melting into Bushwick