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Sometimes I remember events that never happened


Silence, mystery, imagination, reverie… antechambers of the illusory, materials with which we must unite the manifestations of the real in order to project our own interpretations, perhaps the last components within our reach that we have left to stop the vertigo of the present and thus be able to would a new universe.


Photography has long since ceased to represent reality and entered the paths of production of «the real», a kind of elusive, kind and generous chimera with which we can console ourselves from the daily setbacks that overwhelm our lives.


if art is a system of representation and, in turn, representation is a system of meanings that questions itself, then photography – as an image – as a way of producing the real is a way of constructing and producing the real, photography – as an image – by confronting the limits of the real with the limits of representation itself, not only becomes a system for creating meaning, but also emerges as a system of production of the real that will allow us another way of seeing and accepting reality perhaps because, in the end, we know that nothing is real.

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