If you happened to be a human, I think you should watch it
My old town, now a dusty memory.
Sometimes I dream about London and when I wake up I miss it’s colours and smells.
These ones are from my little medium format box I smuggled once into an office.
this one was a task: we went to a grey, muddy park with the colourful foils, supposed to show how we felt in that moment.
I don’t care much about the foils or about the park, these lamps don’t mean much to me either. But they somehow ended up on the pictures saying things about that day, things that grew into a different meaning and different day and reality, these colours became my glasses, my lenses I looked through, confusing, surreal, making that new meaning meaningful, disturbing, mine.
Just some people there and me, Sunday afternoon, doing other things than lying in bed, or on the sofa, I don’t really know.
I swallowed up what was around me and spat it out in some confused colours.
The reason I find Rinko exeptional is her talent to embody everything I feel about Japan in a single square picture.
And everything I feel about Japan is beautiful
a big, passionate, quiet love.
Big, vast, dreamy landscapes, I find them so fascinating. Countryside was a big part of growing up, peaceful, quiet.
Concrete New York, London, Dubai, all these places looked so desirable from the quiet spacious land of nothing – long vast spaces, a soft warm pillow for the eyes always looking further.
I’m under the sad impression the land of silence is getting harder and harder to find. Quiet and slowly forgotten, turning into some kind of elusive obsession. Gradually destroyed: we’re all so busy now, pulsating in the veins of our cities, our big towns, making them go quicker and quicker, greyer and greyer.
My fantasy about the landscape becomes a dream. But oh, how beautiful.
The photos are a part of a long term ongoing project.