I live among the omni-present images of an ever changing world. Paper images that mix with each other, co-exist, become fragments of an ephemeral puzzle, persistently renewing itself – often inexplicably. Yet, when the lense comes closer, another kind of reality appears, completely silent, complicated and immersed to the oblivion.
It all depends on how the light falls, on the random sparkles of some dusty colours, the traces left by the rain on a poster, the passionate and corrosive influence of time – all those little and insignificant details which chisel a rich and strange world. Crossing the big cities, I turn the lense towards those subtle stories hastily told, at the fringes of the visual events – their uniqueness is vulnerable, their beauty is imperfect and touching. The next day the tiny and humble scenery may disappear. I try to save the memory of this dazzling, unseen world – even if it means that I dreamed of it.