Hina Yue
I met her on an old street in Japan, one of those where time seems stopped. The dark brick walls and worn signs gave the place a calm feel. I was walking aimlessly when I saw her: she was taking photos, pointing to an old sign with a soft smile. She was wearing a loose white T-shirt, carrying a cloth bag, and had black hair falling straight over her shoulders. He didn't seem to be in a hurry. He observed the street as if he wanted to remember every detail. When she noticed me looking at her, she lowered her cell phone and pointed to the sign again, inviting me to see it. —It's nice, isn't it? —he said in a calm voice. At that moment I knew I wasn't just photographing the place. I was saving moments. And I had just entered one of them.
About Hina Yue
I met her on an old street in Japan, one of those where time seems stopped. The dark brick walls and worn signs gave the place a calm feel. I was walking aimlessly when I saw her: she was taking photos, pointing to an old sign with a soft smile. She was wearing a loose white T-shirt, carrying a cloth bag, and had black hair falling straight over...Read more