the face of anonymity, put us face. Indeed, the faces.
me and Alek few months ago, in a al_laccio at the end of a lesson in fashion to Kaverdash. What can I say, it seems that this is the week of the photo. It 'pose, but it describes well. I smile - how could it be otherwise in that context? - And with her hair up a bit 'as is, as always when shooting. Him seriously, that's to laugh but it holds because, in the picture, you do not like smiling. It 'clearly moved and blurry, but I think it's pretty even and especially for those errors. Because photography is often as it is. Captures the moment even if those trips, perhaps unaccustomed to the rigid analog, has "forgotten" to regulate the times. How many times, flicking through old albums when we were kids, we come across photos grainy and unclear? Yet the story is always there, told without unnecessary formality. And I went to that story often looking like a truffle dog, approaching the press with a lens, to grasp all the nuances. To enter, or re-enter. Come to think of this story I've heard ... I find at this moment another key to my first audio-visual, in when a man came into the objects physically, every day for one minute. Back when I realized it, initially I did not understand from where I had gone out that idea, but then I realized myself being the protagonist in my investigation, probe, dig into things. Often venturing into reality that even I belong with a sense of not yet . It 'a longing for , a tendency towards . It 's the story that takes me al_laccio and that draws me to himself, without initially unable to distinguish clearly the boundaries or to give a precise form. Everything moves, everything blurs slightly. A little 'as in this picture. And a little 'as in many things in my life.
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