When you’ve been living in the silence for years, eventually you’d like to lose yourself in the noise of the city. When you lose the ability to hear the silence, you regret it, craving to embrace it, even if only for an instant. Listen to the silence of the snow: in her blow, the actual present stops. In her ‘white’ is imprinted the good soul of the world. Look at her. Touch her softly…
Photograph all of her almost, imperceptible nuances. The snow is like an old lady coming from the past: she knows the reality of things that ‘are’ and ‘will be’, by covering them with mystery and respect. She envelops them in a silence that seems abysmal. Things change in substance. Things change their meaning and you can capture their real essence. Snow and silence live for each other: Lady snow and her dumb way to indicate the reality… The silence back to talk. And you go back to listen to…
