All Societies End Up Wearing Masks.

Never Resist A Sentence You Like, In Which Language Takes Its Own Pleasure And In Which, After Having Abused It For So Long, You Are Stupefied By Its Innocence.

Every Photographed Object Is Merely The Trace Left Behind By The Disappearance Of All The Rest. It Is An Almost Perfect Crime, An Almost Total Resolution Of The World, Which Merely Leave The Illusion Of A Particular Object Shining Forth, The Image Of Which Then Becomes An Impenetrable Enigma.

There Is No Aphrodisiac Like Innocence.

It Is A World Completely Rotten With Wealth, Power, Senility, Indifference, Puritanism And Mental Hygiene, Poverty And Waste, Technological Futility And Aimless Violence, And Yet I Cannot Help But Feel It Has About It Something Of The Dawning Of The Universe. Perhaps Because The Entire World Continues To Dream Of New York, Even As New York Dominates And Exploits It.

It Is Perhaps Not A Surprise That Photography Developed As A Technological Medium In The Industrial Age, When Reality Started To Disappear. It Is Even Perhaps The Disappearance Of Reality That Triggered This Technical Form. Reality Found A Way To Mutate Into An Image.