Morning walk in a quiet world of trees

My old forest is not only golden. It is also cursed. New emotions and feelings just a couple feet away from the golden spots. Same place, different visions.

Fog, cold, bad light... There are good chances I will be alone in the park. I like that. Infrared might seem to be the best choice with this kind of light.

Confinement or no confinement? A dead city is a dead city. Walking here is like walking in a graveyard, tough without the feeling of being in a sacred place.

Winter is here. With the cold, first snow, and lot of ice and frost. I'm focusing here on the tiny ice crystals I can see eraly in the morning.

I am less and less interested in reality. My photos are less and less meant to depict that reality. I want, I need, my photos to depict what I see, what I feel, and that is not what is commonly accepted as reality. This old golden forest may not be old, or golden, or even a forest. And that doesn't matter.

Insomnia, boredom, loaded battery, unusual warm weather and the certainty of being totally alone during a stupid pandemic: that can only end in a night walk shooting stuff.

It is hard for me to imagine people are actually living here. All I see is a desolated dirty hell hole. I don't see people, I don't see traffic, I don't even see a fucking stray cat or a bird. There is silence, there is no life, there are rotten derelict things.It is a ghost town.

From the book "Into my darkness".