In the shadows of the night, we'll stand | 40 Photograph - Limited Edition of 7

And in this blue, our inner color, uncertain, but dominant. Incarnated by him, the dreams, in their blue lives, longings. And in this blue, our inner peace can be death, but decisive. Embodied by him, it makes the soul empty, in its colorful memories, disturbance. And in this blue, our loves, uncertain, but bewitching. Incarnated by him are frozen desires, in their endless melancholy, joy. And we? What was my name, blue shade of yours? Diluted in water, in powder, in foam, in a piece of glass, in a skin cut, in the flight of the golean, in the steel sun, in the bittersweet death of your tears. So happy, reading, epiphanic commas and dots in the joy of not being, only blue as memory of not being.