In this world we are all passing through. Whether this passing and passing, moving, walking or running also has some kind of goal is a matter of everyone’s personal opinion.
So instead of speculating on the subject, I have rather enjoyed catching a few glimpses of this incessant movement, now fast, now slow: whether it be the breathless running of a motorcyclist in the night or the slow and measured pace of an elderly man strolling in front of the sea, the flowing of passers-by in different directions and with different attitudes, as much as the stillness of people if the one who flows is instead the photographer himself being transported by a train.
Fleeting passages in front of the photographer’s lens then, like timeless ghosts.
And photography is perfect for exploring this sphere: precisely because of its intrinsic ambiguity in immobilising any movement and thereby rendering it eternal, infinite and aimless, and above all without a reason that may be only arbitrarily reconstructed in the mind of the beholder, it expresses rather well what I think about the absence of goals to be reached, consoling happy endings and whatever else has been invented from time to time to gratify us.
Without drama, however, with a little levity, capturing common faces, people and attitudes.
