Silent visual stories.
Climbing up to the Hoxha’s five-point star. It casts light into lowlight.
Some sharp edges, a horse seat and the purity of a proper digital camera sensor.
Old teachings sleeping in decay. Sometimes the light visits.
Arza fortress, and the enchanting views from her eyes.
Occupied, abandoned, restored, opened. So I dive into the Bunk’Art, and a lot of film rolls.
Humid tunnels. Darkness in the middle of the day. A silent cold breeze.
It’s there, and it’s timeless.
And it’s their own way.
Fragments of things that decay in time.
Decay. Mud, rust, humidity and raw salt. Vast artificial landscape. Bird sanctuary.