Photographing Felix is like chasing a tornado. Always in a rush, always in a mood, always *hates* being photographed. He sees his auntie coming towards him with a camera and so appears the furrowed brow, pursed lips, and a definite-sounding “no”. His auntie would not be beaten. She crept in when he had worn himself out and got her shot.
Those eyelashes. That black curl. That mole. I got him.
Shot with a Contax 645 on Portra 400 film