An eighties moment, a Dépêche Mode song… the state of things on the provincial highways. There is an intersection between the time people are on the roads and the time that the roads are being repaired. This cannot be avoided but stands as a veritable perfect metaphor for the infamous double bind. Damned if you do, fucked if you don’t. It is not entirely unpleasant, it is not necessary to move at the speed of light. If one let’s the light pass, it will show you things, most interesting and wondrous things.
Photography is movement at the speed of light, or as close as we can get at the with present technology. It will freeze an instant, a moment, a thought or a musing in a still, forever to be examined, space where time has been arrested for vagrancy. But at the same time, as Penny Cousineau so astutely observed, it is death. It kills time for the benefit of art and seeing. It creates a boundary between mortality and insignificance.
Sounds like such a big word.
And yet it means nothing.