We see things, we believe we see things.
Do we see shapes, colors, or stories?
Do we see with eyes to absorb the information, brains to analyze the physical data,
or hearts to resonate with personal experiences?
Embedded in all shapes and every shade, there are tales waiting to be told. With light in hand, photographs could be as expressive as paintings, as fictitious as wings of imagination, besides recording the visible world dutifully.
I photograph roses in my garden. Ignoring the physical beauty of the flowers, I concentrate on the magic created by sunlight peeping through layers of colors. With meticulous selections and fine-tuning of the raw images, surreal pictures of my vision come to life.
Subtle hues, blurry shapes and grainy textures offer neither guidelines nor suggestions.
Conceputual images conceived from time-less, space-less objects may be of landscapes, of figures, of fantasy or simply psychedelic.
Perception is subjective and interpretation knows no boundaries.
In a world of flooded information, it is challenging to unearth buried shapes under seas of colors, to catch muted voices amid cacophonies and to follow the distant Polaris beyond limelight.
Does the VERY TRUTH reveal for those brave through the facades?
Images may have been cropped, speeches may have been truncated, and even the Polaris is not the constant North. The TRUTH is no more than what ones choose to believe and what is close to ones’ hearts.
It is all about “I”.