Olga Federova from Saint Petersburg, Russia has a Gypsy spirit and a lot of Slavic soul. She lives in the Bronx where she works as a hair stylist and hangs out in Washington Square Park with her granddaughter Karinna. Royce and Vida appear in the picture too. Gypsy stuff here, here and here.
During my honeymoon in Guatemala, on September 12th, 2001, shortly after we saw the pictures of the carnage on TV, we walked the road to Zunil in the department of Quelzeltenango. It was there on the road that we met the radish farmer San Tomas. Here's a scene from a local church
For Saint Zebulon, a saint of dreams, I cast Irving Wexler who used to live next to me on Broadway and Great Jones Street. He was a sweet, drifty guy who talked about his writing and reminded me a little bit of my father. These are the last lines from the title story of a book he wrote; The hours move by, almost motionlessly, like clouds without a wind. He wonders, as the first glint of light streaks through the window, will the morning be any kinder than the night?
Saint Lucky is Royce, my assistant's son. Here, he represents the classic good luck totem that can be burned, rubbed, smoked or prayed to in the hopes of improving your lot in life. Click on small pic for examples.
Indio might be the coolest guy I ever met. I saw him in a shack at a market in Salvador, Brazil. He sold statuary, powders and sacrificial chickens for the devotees of Candomble, the Brazilian form of Voodoo. He had a crazy three finger snap and I walked out of there with a couple of boxes of ceramic figures that are now scattered around my apartment.