And we are immediately caught in a swirl, in the rapid changes of perspectives and colors that is unique to the most sensual encounters, where intimacy is brushed against the skin within its changes, its elusive variations, its contrasting plans.
Or it’s an ochre that satisfies our desire for color of thought (Bullhead City, Arizona, 2019), but we lack an organ to see and feel this improvised arrangement of modest complexity that goes from green to pink to gray and blue, bringing together and scattering on the same plan so many sinuous lines that we find ourselves unwittingly instead of that bright spot in the sky above the ridge — when all the rest of the image would feel the velvet of a tongue because this landscape (which one would think Corsican, the artist’s native island) licks our wet eye, washes it with immense pleasure, grainy and sweet.
The photograph touches here all the discordance of the visible with thought. One is struck by the evidence and enigma of these species of scene where no dâme takes place, where the landscapes are mostly empty of humans (the images where the human figure appears probably approach something like blindness (…)
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