“Why is there a wall between me and the world, between me and others, between me and myself? How did it get there, and when did I first notice its edge?
This book traces that wall. Some of it is for me. The rest is for you. There’s comfort in believing photographs document the reality of things.
But we forget that reality doesn’t belong to us. We’re bound to see everything differently, so I tried to find something we could share. What lingers in these
collected fragments isn’t fact. They offer some truth beyond names and maps: loss, vulnerability, longing— the feelings that make you and me human.
The people and places in these images are unmoored from their time, drifting toward something you might recognize as your own.
There’s a photo I keep returning to. A woman at a trunk sale outside Stockholm, with a faded horse tattoo and eyes like deep wells of cool, quiet, dark water. Shy and beautiful, she carries inside her the young woman she once was. Her wild horse tamed by time. She is at once old and young, like reading a whole novel in a glance.
She looks into me with a gaze that delivers my fortune: one day you will die.
So maybe that’s the real question I keep circling. Not why the wall is there, but whether I can still pass a message through to the other side.”
This book traces that wall. Some of it is for me. The rest is for you. There’s comfort in believing photographs document the reality of things.
But we forget that reality doesn’t belong to us. We’re bound to see everything differently, so I tried to find something we could share. What lingers in these
collected fragments isn’t fact. They offer some truth beyond names and maps: loss, vulnerability, longing— the feelings that make you and me human.
The people and places in these images are unmoored from their time, drifting toward something you might recognize as your own.
There’s a photo I keep returning to. A woman at a trunk sale outside Stockholm, with a faded horse tattoo and eyes like deep wells of cool, quiet, dark water. Shy and beautiful, she carries inside her the young woman she once was. Her wild horse tamed by time. She is at once old and young, like reading a whole novel in a glance.
She looks into me with a gaze that delivers my fortune: one day you will die.
So maybe that’s the real question I keep circling. Not why the wall is there, but whether I can still pass a message through to the other side.”
Jon Cuadros
Berlin — April 11
Berlin — April 11
The book was showcased in summer at Photo London, Off Print Tate Modern, and Miss Read Berlin, and is currently up for the Deutscher FotobuchPreis in the independent publishing category. The work was recently exhibited as part of the Berlin Art Week Pre Program. Stockists include Bildband, Voo Store, and The Photographers’ Gallery in London.
Weightless at Last (HARDEL, 2025)
