As I mentioned in a recent photo-centric post, I love taking pictures of kids I meet in my world travels. That’s because, I wrote, “They’re eager, giddy and attention-hungry, all the while laughing and bursting with curiosity, asking questions (‘Where you from?’) and grabbing at the camera with often sticky hands.”
I’ve taken plenty of pictures of Istanbul’s children, a panoply of poses, pouts and play.
Sometimes they’re happy, eager subjects:
Sometimes they’re playful:
Sometimes they’re artfully posed:
And sometimes they’re fledgling rebels, with a wee message for the dope with a camera:
This rapscallion is my kind of kid. There I am, popping my head out of my second-floor hotel room, presumptuously pointing the camera, and getting what I deserve — a little birdie telling me to go fly away, to take a flying f***. Brilliant.