It is very difficult to get into a woman’s emotions. Indeed, just impossible. One evening I imagined how the choice of a woman who decides to spend the evening at a man’s house could take shape. In addition to what I have seen or experienced in life, but putting myself in the shoes of a woman. Using her shoes. Alone, without asking for help, so as not to be influenced. I could have it all wrong, and I hope I was neither irreverent nor trivial, and if by chance I was I already apologize.
I imagined a woman free from social patterns, who does not need to justify her choice to anyone nor is she forced to imitate a man. Only one woman and her choice. Slight hesitations, small second thoughts, reflections, but also moments of normality. Informal sophistication. Today I think I’d really like to remake the sequence having a woman as a director instead, to maybe overturn the point of view.
Photography cannot stage something too different from oneself and the photographer’s point of view, but contamination is possible. From my point of view, we decide when to arrive and when to go. And what to do in the meantime. metaphor of life, in part. We arrive by someone else’s decision, we leave without knowing when. But what we put into it, that is always our choice.
