She from me, sometimes
‘I wait for you, as one waits for the tip of a spear not yet thrust into the body’.
When I read this poem by Victoria Scholnick, I identified the photographic instant, the duel between light and shadow, the appearance of an instant as perishable and fleeting as it is implacable.
When I realised that only the camera of a mobile phone could record at my side, the assault of inconceivable images, I celebrated the possibility of accessing the secret dialogue of things.
Photography is, for me, getting to know how much light is concentrated in a memorable instant.
It is the alchemical time in which light and shadow decide to chisel an event.
