Light travels in a straight line
Lately, I've been puzzled by the meaning of representation. Is this real? What is real? Is what I have in front of me genuine, or just a staged version of what is supposed to be real? Peeling these questions with different approaches, I come to the same concrete conclusion: I'm not able to see the actual objects or persons, only the light bouncing on their surfaces.
This mindful perception of light guides me towards a hypnotic meditative gaze. While observing how light unveils beauty or reality, my mind sets off from those instances and begins to project vague memories, and I get lost within my own inner dialogue. Most of the time, I don't want to come back. It's as if there is a sense of comfort and warmth, especially when thinking about loved ones who may no longer be present.
Without a warning, my mind triggers the same mechanisms to question all of them and suddenly, I'm back. Were they real? Are they an over-romanticized version of what really happened? Similarly, to the light bouncing on the objects, I realize those projections may be also unveiling vague memories bounced from the past.
How important is to have an inner world? For some of us, it is a place to get refreshed, motivated, or inspired. Ultimately, despite recognizing it could potentially develop into harmful addiction, these emotional sequences are necessary to tap into what moves me to (re)create. I can't touch light, but I can feel it. Similarly, my memories may not be tangible, but I can still feel them. Although they are gone, in a certain way some remain.
More than story, Light travels in a straight line, is a way to explore how the outside looks and feels photographically. If seduces me because I can’t explain it; if it’s ambiguous because it is intuitive, then happens for me.