Architect: Ricardo Legoreta
Truthful Fictions
Why is it that everytime I land in a new…I remember part of a day with Dr. Geerat J. Vermeij.
He conjured for me a lure to scientific magnetism never before imagined: A science that awakened concepts for me never before engaged: The captivating possibilities that his science introduced imaginary possibilities: The adventurisms in all of us- -me.
What I remember is like recalling a recording of a waltz: A crew of pink crustacean shells swayed in dance like a wealth of alchemy at my fingertips in mind and imaginary: Memory and touch joined forces to merely enrich and pave ahead for days and years.
Then ahead are the forensics that are like participatory friends. Making claims and sense of everything breathing life into a moment: “Over dramatic”? Not an inch: Take a peek at Antonioni’s L’Avventura: The stunning silence in search of answers: The lingering camera absorbing the eyes’ investigations into the past and the now: The weightlessness of feeling your way through a planets’ life forces may reveal the substantive window into our nascent beginnings:
Vermeij is a 97% blind paleoecologist and evolutionary biologist who through the heart of my eyes embedded in my camera’s fixations the most significant discoveries my camera has become: A tool to touch what a photograph can feel like:
As a scientist, Vermeij can mostly land on any shore adjacent to land and sea: The coast line of any of our shores textured touch of a rock, soil or shell identify where he is. I have always wanted the secrets of what we discover to be mine: Nobody we‘ll see what I see or the way I see- -something is there: Oh, how I try to see.
Histories can be realities yet to be imagined: A man has utilized his blind eyes to tell me the secrets that lie ahead and have always been just near.
My photographs will never replicate that level of sensory understanding: I have tasted too much of the modern world to fully understand the immersive journeys such as a Vermeij or others ventured. I have tried to linger like a Monarch roosting in their chrysalis: The atmospheric energy of another is a stimuli for the impossible: I willingly allow myself to follow in their contrails: My eyes enveloped for just an eternal nano second: A quieter space that most cannot see.
Los Ángeles County Museum…many moons ago
In the light of another country I will land. Light becomes an inexorable transformation: Compelled, mine eyes will adjust over time: Yet it is like scientific surrealism: The earth is round: The encumbrance of lights touch validates my neurosis in real time: Alone in Rio’s Copacabana, Shenzhen, Dhaka, Los Angeles and Copenhagen: My ears resonate with the unintended visual education from Dr Vermeij: I need the the idea of alone on an island surrounded by a textured life: I need the idea of the Crustacean sway: I need the captures to touch and then…Then like measuring Kelvins in the sky, the conundrum of touching lights’ balance of texture and heat profoundly affects the focus of today and the many tomorrows:
Where were the whispers from architects, historians and everybody before me: Were there no warnings: How does one measure the depth of a conundrum: Without a second to wait most people can hear my Pentax explode on the streets of every place above and those to follow: In chess, Black follows White: In photography light and touch walk as one.
My Marriage of light and texture