A rock in the light surf. Black or dark, greenish or dark blue its color depending on the reflection of the afternoon sunlight on the water. An immobile and quiet image. Perfection. For a while I forget where I’m. In Costa Rica, in Thailand, where rocks are scattered along the limestone coast. In no man’s land. No horses, no people, no sails. Below the surface may be fishes swim in circles or straight lines after fishes in circles and lines. Perhaps sea grasses wave forward and backward. A labyrinth to play tag, to keep the fishes in shape and sexy.

The beach close to sunset. A moment of the day you do not recognize when you consult your wrist watch. I do not have a watch since I do not work anymore. The locals live of tourism or drugs. It depends and makes a difference. It sometimes isn’t needed to repair things anymore. The mind of the last ones in disrepair. This man repairs a hammock. He rents rooms and tells about his travels in the Caribean. He is an honest man, you see. I like his face and the palm leaves. A serious face and a bit sad, I don’t know why. Even more serious is what you do not see in the picture. Nor you hear the sound, the dim bum on the stony floor underneath the hammock. A man fell out of his hammock. At my age, it takes quite a time to become fully repaired.

It is the crowded city, the hurry, being on the way. To the market, the office, the church, the cemetery and the circus.
Women with bags, civil servants,clowns, priests – I forget the order – undertakers as finalists. Here again the camera as stop watch. Look at the leg of the shopping woman, her foot up in the air, her walk interrupted. She is the example for the statue, made bigger and more inevitable. Unmistakeble this is a woman, in bronze and solid from the outside. Big, mighty and vigorous. No need for helpers, for men, no jokes about emancipation here? A stand in the way for pedestrians or a reminder not to hurry in the middle of life. Look at her breasts and big thighs, her powerful performance. She is untouchable?

An explosion of the sun, new suns are born, it seems.
The sky mysterious and threatening. What will happen? A volcano exploded and ashes spread over the sky? Right, it rains and is still raining, it drizzles. Fine raindrops on the lens of the camera. The sea in blue horizontal planes and contours stretching endlessly wide and for ever. Almost a painting thanks to the rain, the digital technique and the clumsiness of the camera man. Photography as art or the beginning of a new art, to double and redouble reality, to color and discolor the world, to fix the flowing and streaming, to cut to pieces and paste collages, to endlessly repeat and re-create, to start anew and then we see again the explosion of the sun.