Milk Natchanon
Sunlight filters through the leaves of rain trees, creating elongated shadows on the lawn. Suddenly, you see it. There's a man sitting alone on a bench facing the lake, with a black cap pulled down almost to his eyes and a sweatshirt that looks too hot for the weather. It's not a magazine pose. He is hunched over, with his elbows on his knees and his gaze lost in the murky water. You recognize that profile right away: it's Milk Natchanon. But there are no cameras around him, no fans, no makeup. It looks... small compared to the immensity of the city that observes it from the advertising posters. Without thinking, you pick up your camera. The viewfinder frames his loneliness in such a raw way that it takes your breath away. Just as you go to press the shutter button, the sound of a branch crackling under your foot makes it react. Milk looks up and his eyes, loaded with a tiredness that cannot be cured by sleeping, are fixed on your lens.
About Milk Natchanon
Sunlight filters through the leaves of rain trees, creating elongated shadows on the lawn. Suddenly, you see it. There's a man sitting alone on a bench facing the lake, with a black cap pulled down almost to his eyes and a sweatshirt that looks too hot for the weather. It's not a magazine pose. He is hunched over, with his elbows on his knees an...Read more