№012 07012023
For me the photograph begun with words. There were diaries, notes, texts publications in some underground magazines, literature network platforms. With time, the words would go out of their own context, it became increasingly harder to pronounce the exact feelings with the only letters and to achieve this with an optimal meaning of the word. That's how the first images appeared. It was still a diary but a visual one. Photographs as particles of my own essence, of how I see my surroundings, hidden from sight and immediate recognition. Images as visualisation of how the world reflects in me and how I reflect in it in return. The ambiance and I to pay each other with the same coin, it gives me the ability to create and it shapes me instead. A network of two substances, constantly inspiring each other. By giving preference to b/w photos I recognise the exclusivity of relationship of two contrasted edges with a gap in-between where things are most clearly seen; relationship of the night's last breath and the first morning shimmer which gives birth to something new that lasts short and yet is very important. Photograph captured between these two edges, technically, visually, mentally, obsessively.
Valerie Kabis
For me the photograph begun with words. There were diaries, notes, texts publications in some underground magazines, literature network platforms. With time, the words would go out of their own context, it became increasingly harder to pronounce the exact feelings with the only letters and to achieve this with an optimal meaning of the word. That's how the first images appeared. It was still a diary but a visual one. Photographs as particles of my own essence, of how I see my surroundings, hidden from sight and immediate recognition. Images as visualisation of how the world reflects in me and how I reflect in it in return. The ambiance and I to pay each other with the same coin, it gives me the ability to create and it shapes me instead. A network of two substances, constantly inspiring each other. By giving preference to b/w photos I recognise the exclusivity of relationship of two contrasted edges with a gap in-between where things are most clearly seen; relationship of the night's last breath and the first morning shimmer which gives birth to something new that lasts short and yet is very important. Photograph captured between these two edges, technically, visually, mentally, obsessively.
DIRECTIONS OF THE NIGHT, Under the weight of the Night, honey of the soil flows silentl. Plants are softly rustling to the past absorbing the pale Moon light greedily Deep inside the world's womb, in its very core.
The sound is hidden which turns everything into the divine Dance of Transformation.
Behind the opened secret, as fragile as dreams under eyes lids, I burst into thousands sharp shards of light reflected every rustle of the all-consuming Night.
Warmed by Her heat, I fall asleep. I am tenderly loved by Her infinity.
The sound is hidden which turns everything into the divine Dance of Transformation.
Behind the opened secret, as fragile as dreams under eyes lids, I burst into thousands sharp shards of light reflected every rustle of the all-consuming Night.
Warmed by Her heat, I fall asleep. I am tenderly loved by Her infinity.
