On reading these pages of mine, in the end, I have the impression I have not come up with anything. Anything conclusive and “true”. I wish I had, but I do think I have not succeeded. If, as Shopenhauer says, “the philosopher becomes such through a doubt he tries to escape”, I am not a “philosopher of photography” because I have escaped no doubt. Anyway I do not think I have wasted time. And I do not think he who will read them, these few pages, will waste his time. The themes dealt with using my elementary means are of great significance. I have tried to make sense of my photographic experiences, above all because, through thinking, I wanted to realize what I had done. Maybe trying is already a sort of truth. I have tried to relate things that I have always confusedly considered in relation. Time, light and photography. Knowledge and look. Philosophy and photography. Photography is something (what exactly I have not understood yet) which pays for its simplicity of use and its astonishing diffusion with a generalized underestimation. Two French authors, Sartre and Barthes, have really given me a lot to think about. Photographing moves me. Knowing deeply means only loving, that is becoming one, or living in the desire to become one. Photographing for me has always been and is a way of knowing, and therefore of loving.
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