Photographs

Reality is a cry. Never regret being one of the good ones; do not apologize penitently. When reality is true, an awakening inside the agony cannot be corrupted by the madness. The photography of our time must address thought and not just compositions of light in front of the eyes. Photography is art, and art is testimony. Testimony is being and time. Martin Heidegger reminds us that old age is a phase of life where we face death. The awareness of our finitude, the reduction of possibilities, fragility, and losses. But it is also a time of reflection, understanding, and new opportunities. The legacy shareable by an elder is invaluable potential. No one can grab your memories. No one can take from you your memories. So, in the same way, we could add that there is nothing more terrible than growing old expropriated. To be a grandparent in a wasteland with a withered will; emigrated, exiled, cowardly in your land of birth. The terrible thing is the longing for what they took from you, a loss in return. Be the living one in the graveyard without the light, the great music, the instrument, the vice, the spirits, the gate, the streets… oh, damn it, old prostyle, old prostitute…