Sometimes, a photo is felt on a physical level, even after seeing it within an interior, or just one lying on a table, it draws you back to it mentally, you feel a connection to that time, some kind of non-visual attraction. Perhaps it happens, among other things, due to what’s left unsaid, due to the mystery. You try to unveil it, to understand, to think…
And so you become the author of the story, it follows your script, however, you still know exactly how it happened! You saw, you felt, you heard that melody, but, as soon as your sight is averted, the real world comes flushing back with its worries, it draws you back into the grind, and things will be different. The past is a story we tell ourselves.
The most incredible things, they happen and they don’t, to you and to them, then and now…