Getting across
I am on my way to my heaven or to my hell, to my life or to my death. I am about to enter a sacrate place, a human heart, another human, not me. Do I have the right to reflect my existance in another one, for now completely strange for me? I can’t give anything, maybe ask for, not even that. Maybe just wait for the miracol of silence, of trust, of the hunger for understanding, for getting through the shield of words. But I can’t get anywhere, without letting the other to get deep in my heart, to read all the pain and the struggle. Opening the heart in front of the unknown….
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The restless…ocean
Just another photo of someone…of no one.It depends what you want to see out of it, what you wish to comment upon a photo where the most obvious scene is that of the ocean, of its waves, of its restlessness…Here. What am I doing here? Trying simply to feel the passions of a photo, of a scene of destiny, of a glimpse of fate that will never come, nor will be awaited for, as much as the past has waited for…for a moment in time.
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