I was staring at a woman playing the piano and singing like the world might explode at the end of each and every song.
I was staring at this woman, trying to fix her image in my head forever, like all the frames that i see and can’t fix on film, those frames that reach an ideal that no camera ever could.
I was lost in the contemplation of perfect images, and i started to assemble words to them until it all began to fit together perfectly, like a puzzle with three dimensions : music, images, words.
I was in the maze of perceptions that shift slowly, not trying to make a move, barely breathing when she handed me her camera with a smile, and as i’m the weakest when it comes to this kind of temptation, i finally accepted, almost reluctantely.
I framed without thinking about it, not knowing exactly what i was doing, and the shutter snapped six times before she took back her camera.
I felt naked until the end of the show.
Later on, as we were walking the streets at night to reach home or a metro station, I began to wonder how the pictures i took would look like, with her camera, her film, processed in her usual lab. I really thought that her style, her colors, the feel even of her pictures would appear on mine, even in the slightest way.

I’m still amazed that it didn’t happen. My pictures are completely mine, her pictures are completely hers.

The results are there.