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My mother used to kiss often my father as he felt lost, like a child.
I have photographed my father during his illness because I hadn't done it when I should have.
I have photographed my father because I couldn't look at him without hiding behind the camera, withholding my emotions,
postponing them to a private, secret thereafter. I have photographed suffering before, but then I was following my inner fire,
holding my camera like a sword, now it had become my shield. His illness put a stop to the countless incomprehensions among
us.There was no time for arguments anymore, only time to declare my love.
I have photographed my father during his illness because I hadn't done it when I should have.
I have photographed my father because I couldn't look at him without hiding behind the camera, withholding my emotions,
postponing them to a private, secret thereafter. I have photographed suffering before, but then I was following my inner fire,
holding my camera like a sword, now it had become my shield. His illness put a stop to the countless incomprehensions among
us.There was no time for arguments anymore, only time to declare my love.
- Copyright
- Alessandro Digaetano
- Image Size
- 4368x2912 / 2.4MB
- www.alessandrodigaetano.com
- Contained in galleries
- Last months of my father