- Photography moves in images, literally, in the world of a thousand borders. It uses light to write, but it also uses shadow, because it can't be done without one another, because the whole light would be a white photograph and the lack of light, black. The dance of lights and shadows, we try to sort it out in some way. Sometimes like the testimony of truth, sometimes like the hypocritical portrait of lies. Why has the world so ordained by those who framed it? Why not a few centimeters further?
I've always been given something to think about the boundaries, the lines, the clash of the two sides. In the case of the photo, the box separating Ageria and EzAgeria is the security agency at the front of the map. Those lines, the divides become constants within us,… in a check-point in which we are immersed and of what we own. Who do we let go of the agency?
The photographer has some power. To those square territories, the power to take the step to enter our world (simple, no doubt). What we sometimes give for ourselves and, depending on each other’s commitment, we sometimes sell to media, agencies or other bosses the authorization to manage that limited space.
A photo always ends somewhere, that is, as the physical limit of the human gaze, is clear in the photo; the border is the main protagonist of the brick. Outside the border, periphery and exile.
The photographer has, therefore, a judgment of the world in all the photos and a responsibility with it inexorable. Think about what it teaches you, think about what has left you out of the box.
In this blog, through my photos and those of others, I will talk about framing, exiles, countries of the periphery, projects, etc., that is, my free territory. I don't put iron in the door, you're welcome.
“…And everyone is our people if it is ours.” (Sarrionandia)