i was about to adress my foreword to one and sundry, when i realized that the ones to show up here are few. no need then to deal with the gap between points of view, too often seen as pretension when this distance is too great. for the time being there are two, three of us. a bit more sensitive to the vibration of things; a bit more engaged into the matter, a bit more connected to a truer freedom, standing a bit more in the left margin than we would tend to beleive. predisposed, perceptive, subjective and emotive. apprehensive of a thruth always concealed, cluttered, always partial, incomplete, quite often contradictory, indeed even deceitful.
by natural affinities, you at once understand my consonances and my dissonances - field photography, from street photography to urban photo, up to a psychogeography : with the play of forms, of textures, of colors, of distances; and that what the street offers to the gaze is not the subject anymore, but the medium. brick walls with graffitis upon scars; wild grass fields fluttering under the wind; glass panes exposing before, behind and beyond. shades and lights as an extension of oneself. somehow in an organic relationship.
for some psychology, or religion, spirituality or metaphysics for others. if ever i have one only creed, while remaining willingly unpersuasive, it is that an image speaks much better to anyone, even one impervious to hear. of course i am no advertisement : you will not run into me everywhere. if you came up to my place it is by choice. yet more if you spend some time. and yet more even if you ever come back.