WHEN YOU LOOK AT AN OBJECT

When you look at an object, or a situation, or a scene through a glass full of water or through the lens of your camera or through the tiny hole of your stenopeic box, things get to your eyes different reflexed and convex. They acquire a perimeter, loose space, and the infiniteness of beautiful scenery, for instance, becomes a more or less significant fragment delimited at the four sides of the image. Then the colors that gave a fantastic emotion to your mind when you pressed your finger to click and immortalize that moment, pass through a technical process when you print it, that not always coincide with your emotions nor with the sentiments that made you press the button.
My photos are not faithful constructions of reality. Even at daylight my images are “composed dreams,” graphic expressions of emotions domesticated by time and circumstances, where you must not look for grain or perfection, heavy social subjects.
For me, photography is a vice of the mind a game between my eyes, my dreams and a part of myself that I do not get tired of searching and which I have not yet found.
My photographs are a means to express myself without speaking, a means to get entangled in my emotions until I get lost in a visual labyrinth with my eyes wide open and my soul fantastically uneasy.
Maria Di Paola Blum
Photographer