On this trail, each of us finds this one and only place that is home.
It’s about beginnings, perhaps about ends, articulated in an open ellipse that marks out the moving, growing heart of things from crest to crater. Fusion, separation, thresholds. A path traced between times, reigns, elements. Relentlessly redrawn.
The pictures open and fold back on themselves by turns. They renew their sound, their weight, unfold their depth, or don’t, depending on the moment. The skins’ grain answers the photographic material’s, alternately expanding and tightening like starlings in flight, unravelling the metamorphoses of a same, luminous momentum, a flesh shared by beings and places, manifested following different degrees of density, permeability, transparency. And here and there the film, scratched, smeared with salt, studded with fingerprints, meets with the texture of a world we can feel is loved in all its forms, embraced according to the paradoxes it vibrates with.