moleskine update after three months of shooting without fixing my own trace on paper. i’m now looking at images of what seems like a whole different time. back then…well, back then…

i feel like three months ago is back then…

but that isn’t the oddest, though. no, the oddest is to realize that i have now at least a word for each picture i have made, it’s to have a close look at each picture as part of a whole and not just an element of a series, when series are mostly determined by places and times.
the moleskine makes it a whole, i guess.

it was about time that i took a bit of time for myself.
why is it generally when you miss something that you realize its importance in your life ? the place it took, the time you put into it. why is it generally when you find back something that you realize how much you’ve missed it ?
like it doesn’t have an importance in itself. like you have to lose a taste to be able to enjoy it again. like you have to let go a time to cherish the memories you have of it.
is it what we’re all made of ?
is it what we all make our lives of ?
finding and losing and missing and finding again, just so that we can lose and miss again ?

rarely, though, it’s possible to take a step back from the good moments lived and think how precious they are, and know, at that instant, before running again, that they’re going to be unforgettable…
it doesn’t help them not going slowly away, it doesn’t help them not fading slowly out, eventually, everything melts into some blur, eventually everything becomes so distant that i often have the feeling that i’m not living just one life, but that i’ve already lived a thousand…

i’m filling pages with small pieces of pictures and memories.
and soon, i know, there won’t be blank pages of these past months anymore.
but i’m not scared of blank pages, i’m not scared of losing and missing, i’m scared of finding again knowing that it’s only one point on that circle…