Franko B.

"In the distance I will look blurred. In the middle I will be faded. In close up I will be lost. I will be vanished even before I even am born. I will be lost."

Writes Frank B. in his image collection of people who have relegated themselves to sleeping in British Isles' gutters and pavements. The motif of the book presents an air of aloneness, unnoticeable mediocrity of faces often seen but never remembered.

Street concrete or tile pavements lent itself as a bed to the tired and homeless. Old comforters, thinned mattresses, and cardboard boxes turn the cold hard corners into a place of refuge and relative safety as the light of day is eaten by the cold darkness of the night. 3 out of 5 stars… (more)