Favourite photographer: Lithium Picnic|
Favourite style of art: Vintage Pulp
Barefoot on the Farmer's MarketOur local farmer's market is one of my favourite places to walk around barefoot. It is open air and it has a cement floor so in summer it can get really hot, but in mornings when I usually go the surface is still not to hot to walk on with bare feet, and there are always little puddles to cool off. They wash it every evening, but still it is very sticky, and my feet get so lovely dirty. I love it how dust sticks to them then. If I'm lucky I start leaving dirty footprints behind me. I have nice arches so they look pretty.Barefoot on the Farmer's Market by ConchaPunani
There are always fruits to step on. Bananas can really be very slippery, but you can squash them with your whole feet. I like stepping on oranges. I love how they feel between my toes. Berries leave small sticky colourful stains on my feet. I usually wear bright nail polish, lemon yellow or neon pink, so colours would match well. I walk barefoot most of the summer so by late august my skin gets copper tan and there is a visible difference between my soles and darker sk
Barefoot in the SupermarketI love to walk barefoot around the supermarket; the cool touch of hard utilitarian floors, polished smooth, on my naked soles after the rough asphalt surface outside. It feels so soothing, if it's summer outside and my skin is tingling from walking on hot pavement. Usually, I'm in my short summer dress, and wear nothing on my feet except my dark nail polish.Barefoot in the Supermarket by ConchaPunani
I like how the floor becomes chilly when I walk by dairy section, or how warm it feels next to the bakery, where air is heavy with the smell of fresh bread. It is so sticky by the fruit stand. It makes my feet deliciously dirty, helping that fine dust cling better, and there might be berries to crush. I love how they smash and burst under the balls of my feet, and make my footprints red.
I take my time and walk slowly, savoring every moment and texture under my bare feet. I feel so serene then, strolling like that amongst the stalls, ignoring the evil looks of prudish old ladies who think I’m a hobo and a tramp. Sometimes I g