Seaweeds
Seaweeds
a little fishermen beach in the North of Portugal.
with the lid open into a dark room.
the black background.
Casualness made me. It also made all these images that
came from the sea and from its will. The simple act (going to the beach to
collect little seashells) was the call to all the other beings that live there
or die at our feet. Those beings that have tried to give us a beginning by
desiring to possess eyes (tiny...). But let me explain: One day I thought that
I am what I am because the seaweeds I photograph today have wanted me to be
this way, a watcher. Just because they have wanted to be felt by the light that
once existed there. And they have created little cells, different from all the
other ones that they were, those that could know light from darkness. Then,
millions of years after, they have desired to find out where it was (the light,
I mean) and they looked for it. I believe that they have begun seeing. I
believe that they have started being us. Today I see myself wondering how
curious the fact is that I want to produce images of those primary observant
beings, so that they become nourishment to my eyes, which, in turn, stubbornly
continue to bathe in the same salted water. Today I wonder how curious it is
the fact that we still continue, after so many millions of years, desperately
looking for a light.


















