
WEIGHT: 63 kg
Bust: C
1 HOUR:70$
Overnight: +30$
Sex services: Ass licking, Sex vaginal, Strap On, Massage, Lesbi-show soft
Our previous theme dealt with the inside of Lusaka. Space plays an important role in our conceptions of the inside and intimacy, and it becomes a part of our everyday because we tend not to question its authority.
We forget that walls and ceilings limit our movement β our feet can only tread certain paths and pictures can only hang on certain walls because of them. We feel claustrophobic in tight spaces, but maybe also more at home; free in open spaces, but also lonelier. How could we conceive of space without buildings? Our everyday existence is bordered by bricks and cement.
The language is mysterious, made up of curves and straight lines, brick and concrete, of malls and government buildings. So for our next theme, we are going to be focusing on the buildings of Lusaka, both inside and outside.
Lusaka is a mishmash of different architectural styles. There is a consistent and worrying lack of urban and town planning, but Lusaka does not feel like an unplanned city; rather it feels like a city wanting to break free, yet cannot. It cannot organize itself to transcend its potential. Our photos will deal with the iconic and the mundane, the beautiful and the weird, but what will sustain all of these photos is a unreserved belief in the everyday.
Or take another example β the agricultural hall also shown above; it is tucked away somewhere in the showgrounds. It has no real impact on the everyday other than its existence; perhaps then buildings, like people, thrive on their ability to exist. The everyday is euphemism for living, and we intend to document this living diversity in Lusaka. The picture above of a cooling tower near the centre of Lusaka; a blunt facade β does it even have a facade?