Paris, September 2011, sitting on the patio of a cafe, I ask my neighbor for a light. Something doesn’t seem right. I don’t know how to describe it. We start to talk, and I perceive, beneath my neighbor’s beauty, an unparalleled sweetness and presence. I already want to take her picture. I ask for her number and call her the next day. Lalla is transgendered. During our session, I am touched and moved by the grace and fragility emanating from her person. Her mystery overwhelms me. I mostly knew about transgendered people through vulgar caricatures, and standing before my lens is a transgendered woman more feminine and delicate than most of my peers.
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