Photographs, photographs

The city is a fiction : you carry it within you, like a childhood dream. Yet it does not exist. Or else it is multifaceted, vistaless, broken up by enlarged details that alter the meaning of what you see. Against this backdrop of interlocking shapes, lines and colours, life takes on a poignancy. Something imminent and inevitable creeps in and silently crushes everything. And so, under this sun, in this harsh light which is always either very blue or very white, you sense, unfolding, a kind of calm tragedy…

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