
Wabi-sabi embraces the natural cycle of growth and decay. The life of an object and its impermanence are evidenced in patina and wear, including rips, any visible repairs (scotch tape or glue) or additions: pen, ink, stains, pencil marks.
Wabi-sabi embraces the natural cycle of growth and decay. The life of an object and its impermanence are evidenced in patina and wear, including rips, any visible repairs (scotch tape or glue) or additions: pen, ink, stains, pencil marks.
In the course of my travels I have had many unforgettable conversations, many from dusk to till dawn, entire train and plane rides, fascinating people with incredible stories or theories on the point of our existence, and yet, more often than not, it’s the conversations in silence I remember most fondly.
“The delivery of a seasoned jazz musician is often clear and confident even if the actual musical content is very complicated. This can also be translated into street photography: a complex scene should be portrayed with great clarity and often simplicity even if there are lots of intricate actions and nuances taking place.”
There really is no explanation for the creative process, I can only say that from time to time I find myself crawling around graveyards…
The Leaves of Poets had been a title jangling around my head for a while and this first attempt has been made with leaves found on the grave of JRR Tolkien.
“I documented my work but also everything else I could find graffiti-wise, then the spaces where it always seemed to appear started piquing my interest. “
I too hope to raise the dead; only for me, it is symbolically through photography.
Poems and photographs from Michele Farinelli
“People live and mark their existence in the silent voice of their remains.”
Whether we’re shutting out the light at close of day, or wandering the slick cool streets in a perfect moody urban nocturne, Kevin Moraczewski’s photographs create a portrait of slowly-shifting lonely hours.
Aren’t we surrounded by noise, loud music, excessive parties and gatherings, all so as not to listen to the silence, the inner silence of our loneliness?