Hey xxxxxx,

 

I know you and I met before, like a long time ago. Or maybe it wasn’t a long time ago. Maybe, actually, we never met ? I don’t know really. I am not sure you know me. I know you like when I write beautiful things and you love the sound of my words. Do you remember when we were young ? Do you remember when I was standing above you ? 

 

You were so tall, to me, in my heart you were a giant. I remember the smell of your skin. And your hair. Sometimes I miss the past so much. It pushes this flow of water behind my eyes. You know, I look at photographs and I think of the past. Did I tell you I became a photographer ? Truly I wanted to be a writer but well, things happened. Tokyo, the divorce, all that. And the park, the meditation and me wandering the streets. I told myself I could pick up a camera and do something. 

 

So I did something. Sometimes I am not really sure why I photograph. I know I don’t like to photograph things, I like to photograph people. I love people. Just like I loved you. But today you love somebody else. So, what am I going to do ? Yeah. So, do you see all these people in my memory ? I don’t even know what to do with them. Sometimes it hurts to think of the past. I think about all the people who hurt me. The world is such a violent place, I crave tenderness. 

 

Do you know where I was born ? Does it matter ? I was born somewhere in Europe, somewhere at the end the last millennium, somewhere in the country side. My sweat smells very sexual. Is that an important point ? I am very proud of my boudoir. It’s funny you never came inside of it. I wish I could just be normal because normal hurts less, it sells better and right now I need to get coins. Because I’m trapped in a fortress. Hey xxxxxxx, I think you are stuck too. Am I right ? But do you love him at least ? 

 

I don’t really know what photography represents to me or to the world today. Humans really destroyed this art recently. But humans always do that anyway. Photo - graphy = writing with light. So maybe, I am writing with light. But you cannot tell a story with photographs since photographs don’t speak. It’s just geometry on faces. The faces I see, they hold the cues. Cues to my feelings. To my pain, to my questions, to what I see, to what I missed and what I miss. 

 

Don’t ever feel anything in life. Feelings are a trap. 

 

I love a beautiful photograph. I love people. I love love love. And it makes me feel so lonely sometimes. But these are just bits and pixels on the internet. And look, now suddenly you’re here and you can feel me. 

 

I can feel you too. 

 

Go and look at these images. Find one that makes you feel something, then send it to me. Should we do it soon ?