Each Of Us Has His Own Rhythm

To Eat, To Speak, To Sing (need We Add: To Kiss?) Are Operations Which Have The Same Site Of The Body For Origin.

For Death Must Be Somewhere In A Society; If It Is No Longer (or Less Intensely) In Religion, It Must Be Elsewhere; Perhaps In This Image Which Produces Death While Trying To Preserve Life. Contemporary With The Withdrawal Of Rites, Photography May Correspond To The Intrusion, In Our Modern Society, Of An Asymbolic Death, Outside Of Religion, Outside Of Ritual, A Kind Of Abrupt Dive Into Literal Death.

It Is No Longer The Sexual Which Is Indecent, It Is The Sentimental.

Don't Say Mourning. It's Too Psychoanalytic. I'm Not Mourning. I'm Suffering.

The Photograph Is Violent: Not Because It Shows Violent Tings, But Because On Each Occasion (i)it Fills The Sight By Force(i), And Because In It Nothing Can Be Refused Or Transformed (that We Can Sometimes Call It Mild Does Not Contradict Its Violence: Many Say That Sugar Is Mild, But To Me Sugar Is Violent, And I Call It So).