Photographs you listen to. A diary you never write.
Your photographs gain a voice. Say a little about one, and it becomes a diary.
So that the same memory arrives, whether or not you can see.
How many minutes did you spend looking at other people's photographs yesterday?
——And your own?
We read other people's stories by the dozen, every day. The time to look back on our own keeps getting put off.
Take a little of the time you spend on other people's memories, and give it back to your own.
This photograph comes with a voice. You can listen without looking, and the scene still arrives.
The late sun traces the weave of the tatami and draws the shadow of the screens out long. Past the opened doors, laundry hangs on the line, and the garden is green. The sun has come down to the height of the roof, and the wooden floor has turned to gold.
One teacup near, one further off. As though someone had been sitting there a moment ago.
The last photograph you took.
What were you thinking, just then?
——Could you say it now?
The photograph stays. What you felt does not, unless you say it aloud.
Scia, for keeping. Lupe, for knowing what is in front of you. Both open photographs, and the world, to the ear.
Talk with a photograph; a diary you never write. Say a little about the one you took, and it becomes a diary, then a story, read aloud in a voice — and something you can give to someone who matters.
About Scia →
Hold it up, and the words and the scene in front of you turn into a voice, there and then. Timetables, price tags, notice boards — the words of the street, to the ear.
About Lupe →Events and releases. Just the most recent.
Enjoying a photograph should not belong only to people who can see.
——That is where this project started.
With the ears and the fingertips, all the way through — on accessibility →
A photograph is something you look at.
——Who decided that?
Not to stop looking, but to build an entrance that is not the eye.
Received through the ear, a feeling you missed while looking comes quietly forward.
Your own story begins.