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동의합니다.
Memory is gradually lost, crumbling, and it's unclear how to stop it. The old is forgotten but not always what you want to forget. Usually if it's forgotten, then everything is forgotten together.
Summer. I'm afraid of not having time for something, not doing something, not seeing something, and at the same time I don't know what exactly I would like to have time for, what to do and see. It seems like absolutely everything. I want this and that and something as soon as possible, like right now. But I'll probably regret something simple. That I never decided to dye my hair pink, didn't taste a mangosteen or that I saw too few sunrises. This is probably what life is. As long as you want something you live, and when you stop wanting something consider yourself dead.
Someone cherishes the memory, tries to hold on to it with all their might when they feel that it's already leaving. Someone collects the history piece by piece. From the smallest pieces of newspaper on the floor to entire stone statues. Someone on the opposite side lets it go. Lets it go into different hands. I would like to think that these are the hands of those who can take care of it, but more often these are other hands. Those that will destroy, erase, tear apart into small parts, transform beyond recognition, so that you can play investigator. You can imagine what was here many years ago looking at the walls, the floor, the ceiling.
One half-shot film lay in my camera for a year because I had no time for it. It was spoiling there because as "experts" say, if the film has been started then it needs to be finished and developed as soon as possible. It seems pointless to me to rush so much. In such a matter you can’t rush at all, but stretching it out for a year as I did is also too much. In the traditional perception it was spoiling, but in mine it acquired an unique film-like quality. It faded but only in parts. Colors were distorted and contrasts changed. In my opinion, everything is as it should be because if the film doesn’t look like film, then what’s the point of all this.
After viewing the first finished film I felt uneasy. I realized that I had become too accustomed to seeing life in color. In addition, I suspect that the developer wasn't impartial and put part of his black-and-white soul into it. A sharp feeling that there was something in it pricked me several times. Out of habit, I began to think the way I usually think when I look at other people's photographs. Since there was no color here then at least there must be some meaning?
