Dust
I live and wander on an imaginary planet made of rock, water and ice. Aren't human beings made up of the same atoms as those that make up the earth's crust, water and ions, as the famous astrophysicist Hubert Reeves once said? I wander through this imaginary land, which may not have many human beings, but whose power brings us back to our own condition.
"You shall return to the earth, for out of dust you shall return to dust. (Genesis 3.19). These places are bigger than the landscapes we travel through. They are deafeningly silent, vulnerably powerful. They were, are and will continue to be part of our fragile and ephemeral existence. As Roger Caillois wrote, "These stones, older than Life, remain after it on the cooled planets".
There is nothing before me but the universe: space, time, which suddenly seems infinite, and matter. My real or dreamed memories are superimposed on the reality I photograph. Landscapes become reflections of states of mind. These bits of earth transport me to an Elsewhere that transcends me and raises the question so dear to Pascal: "What is Man in the Infinite?
"You shall return to the earth, for out of dust you shall return to dust. (Genesis 3.19). These places are bigger than the landscapes we travel through. They are deafeningly silent, vulnerably powerful. They were, are and will continue to be part of our fragile and ephemeral existence. As Roger Caillois wrote, "These stones, older than Life, remain after it on the cooled planets".
There is nothing before me but the universe: space, time, which suddenly seems infinite, and matter. My real or dreamed memories are superimposed on the reality I photograph. Landscapes become reflections of states of mind. These bits of earth transport me to an Elsewhere that transcends me and raises the question so dear to Pascal: "What is Man in the Infinite?
