This morning during my therapy a doctor looked at the prints I had with me. Distant, cold he made the prints run through his hands and let them at their place. Later I met him in the hospital: he was sitting on a bench, the head in his hands. I sat and asked him what was going wrong: he was worried about his health. He asked me how do I keep going on having therapy three days for week, dealing with the prospect of death and so on. I told me that like Eraclito said: “If am I there’s no death, if there’s death I’m not”. He didn’t get me. With a desperate look took my pictures from my hands and told me: “Show me happiness!”. This is the picture I showed him. Now we are sitting in front of those flowers and trees with a cup of tea in our hands and a smile on our face. As long as you’re living, life is so (accept my apologies) fucking beautiful!
Hasselblad X Pan II with 90mm f:4 lens at f:8 in aperture priority mode, Ilford FP4 Plus 125 ISO film