Climbed over mountains Travelled the sea Cast down off heaven Cast down on my knees I’ve laid with the devil To bring you my love PJ Harvey PJ floats over the water like a musical Ophelia. The sound of her throat makes me edgy like Amy Hempel’s surreal stories. Beyond...
Tomar unas cuantas fotografías. Suponiendo que existiera un criterio aleatorio, que en realidad es una sensación de casualidad cimentada en el hecho de que por mucho que se repitiera el proceso nunca se obtendría el mismo resultado. Se me ocurre releyendo Observaciones sobre los colores, uno de esos libros que...
No existen diferentes tipos de fotógrafo, ni de fotografía. Son, en todo caso, divisiones comerciales o de producto. Trato de explicar la naturaleza de la imagen porque me aterra la ignorancia de la que soy testigo. Pero, ¿cómo hablar de la luz a una asamblea de ciegos convencidos de que...
Some days after knowing about the cheating, I went to a mountain retreat with some friends. We bathed naked in the river, we had miso soup for dinner and meditated in behalf of clarity. Rilke wrote that all insights occur after the fact: I was scared to death, but feeling...
As a photographer, I’ve come to realize that certain emotions are invisible to eyes in immediate reality, but they appear, so uncanny familiar, so violent, so touching, once revealed in a photograph. Sometimes I wonder what my life would be if I couldn’t keep record of the overlooked, if I...
Most of the people and things I love to the bones were beautiful, bountiful accidents at the very beginning. It would be risky to abridge memory without blotting out the essential. The true relationship between cause and effect is largelly concealed to the conscious mind. My heart is the ball...
I clearly remember the day I found out what was going on. The powerful sense of relief and emptiness numbed every single emotion, including betrayal. I knew I was about taking the biggest leap in my whole life. My hands against the light reminded me my grandfather’s. Suddenly aged, panthocratic,...