Trish in Transit

I’ve made a promise to myself to start taking photographs again. Yesterday, my friend and I visited a bunch of paper mills for our business, Patricias Artworks. I was fascinated by the cavernous warehouses and the paper printing and cutting machines, men in collared shirts with the factory’s name printed in bold hauling thick reams and stacking them into towers. After being directed from one mill to another, we ended up in a nondescript workshop with not even a door or a sign. The walls were painted bright orange and mint green. The men were shirtless because of the lack of ventilation. Colorful posters and flyers hung from wooden shelves.

We told them what we wanted and asked if it could be done, keeping our fingers crossed. And they said the magic words we’ve been waiting to hear all day: “Kaya po.”