photo: On the road, in Morocco, a metaphor for life
Of the things that happened to me, some by accident, others by my fault, I first understood through the lens of destiny or fatality, now I leave them behind in the jumble of human history.
Archives par mot-clé : selfportrait
#4113 selfportrait*
Photo: Labyrinth Rocks, Pohara, a real labyrinth, real rocks striated and carved in different ways by nature.
The lens of my camera has taught me that a scene I look at varies greatly depending on the angle from which the shot is taken. The fact that the scene is narrowed by the lens means that it is more perceptible. But seeing through a camera lens has led me to see that it is the same thing for life. The angles from which one can look at one single event are many.
#4103 selfportrait
photo : coming back from Wharariki beach, a WestCoast feeling
sandy beaches, tides !
For most of my life, my body and mind have led parallel lives: it was my mind that led the game (no, I don’t have to sleep all these hours, I’m tired but it doesn’t matter, of course I can do a little more, etc.). I had warning signs that I dismissed out of hand, until one day my body had enough. We have since been trying to live together, the symbiosis is not always easy but when it happens, I wonder why I thought I could neglect such a big part of myself (and yes, we can have quite a bit of fun together).
#3068 Selfportrait*
photo : Matai River, Sunday hole, it is sometimes possible to swim there (when the water quality allows), when it is, the experience is invigorating.
For a long time, my shoulders felt the weight of past events and decisions, before I realised that if the past cannot be changed, the narrative surrounding it can make the load a lot lighter.
*as usual, inspired by Edouard Leve
**posted in April 2023, edited in April 2024
#4088 selfportrait*
Photo: Marahau (Windy Gardens), at high tide, this marsh is submerged. At low tide, a small stream of water makes its way through the wild grass to reach the mother.
When I saw this stream of water winding its way through the weeds, I immediately thought to myself that it looked like my life, which has never followed a straight line, has often been submerged, but has continued its way always looking at the sea.
*as always, inspired by the work of Edouard Levé