Travelling is to move regularly. It is not an act limited in the time but rather a state whose permanence has his importance. It is a kind of life to have better feel, to have the feeling to exist.
The habits in the voyage…
The destination does not have importance. What import is; to be in moving, to be on the road. To arrive somewhere and to recreate new habits, to give up them in their turn. To set out again before the distances become longer and annoying to go through, before the city become smaller than first days.
What import the direction towards which one leaves, what import the distance that one to go through.
What import is; to be elsewhere for not to be here. The road, these various ways of to go through it, the stages in the hotels, the voyage always does not have fixed projects and destinations.
To like or not to like the big cities…
It does not matter the reality of the places, it is initially a visual, emotional and fugitive impression.
To leave is a revolt against oneself against his anguishes. The only desire is to move away.
It does not matter that the days lose their names.
It does not matter space and weather, it rains, it snows, the sun burns. One is elsewhere.
Reality becomes dream, dream becomes reality…
Very exciting to awake the morning to look through the window and to wonder; What do I do there? Where I am?… Not to have any idea of place.
Very touching is to be in front of the vacuum, to be alone with the horizon.
Travelling is to meet, a temporary meeting with the unexpected one, real or imaginary space.
It’s, an encounter with our dreams our hopes and loneliness.
The glance on the unimportant things…
To photograph for travelling or to travel for photograph.
In the return, there will remain only some recollections, which will disappear with time, and some photographs, which make me dream when I will look at them.
It is not what I discover that I want to photograph but the experiment of discovering, to live this moment and to give form to this experiment.