Evering Road, summer 2017.

I collect my thoughts and I go out.
With my professional Japanese scissors and my camera.
To release the tension, to avoid the danger of too much introspection and to look for the simple beauty. Next door, and door next.

And then.

I prepare my stolen bouquet. I bring at home the memories of an empty state.
With the purpose of remember to myself about the contingent, the metaphysical and that we are alive after all.

And then.

Someone leaves me a note.
And this reminds me all the heaviness.

 
 
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