The fragmented human
“Man is a political animal,” said Aristotle.
Today, he isolate himself.
Common life unravels; each withdraws into a narrow refuge.
I photograph fragments of the body — a belly, a shoulder, a lip.
Isolated pieces, suspended, silent.
They no longer form a body.
Yet I speak of something else — larger, more unsettling.
As the images unfold, the outlines fade.
The body becomes stain, line, light.
It slips away, almost vanishes — like the social bond it reflects.
Each image breathes alone.
Forgotten star, extinguished constellation.
Nothing connects the points of the sky.
The map of the world dissolves.
In the night, meaning scatters.
