Untitled
For a long time, I couldn’t understand which work to submit for the exhibition Odyssey.
I truly want to be part of this space, but I couldn’t grasp the theme itself.
What is Odyssey about?
Why does it exist?
What does it actually ask for?
I studied the members of the jury.
They are strong, very different from one another, with distinct visual languages.
I tried to choose a work with the jury in mind —
hoping to be noticed, to be recognised, to be understood.
And then something clicked.
Not like a decision, but like recognition.
You already have such a work.
It doesn’t matter what the jury might think.
It doesn’t matter whether this photograph will be selected or not.
What matters is knowing that you have a work that speaks the language of Odyssey.
This photograph was taken by the sea, during low tide.
A dark frame. Breakwaters. A dense, heavy space.
At the centre — a figure in white clothing, illuminated by a flashlight.
It is clearly a human presence, but not a portrait.
Rather a stain. A trace.
A state in which you are still here —
but no longer who you once were.
This work does not illustrate a journey, nor does it explain one.
It exists as a moment of transition —
from one state into another.
A form of rebirth that has not yet taken shape.
A movement that has not become a direction.
The photograph was made in 2022.
The world has not seen it yet.
And I am no longer the person I was when I pressed the shutter.
That is precisely why it speaks now.
Not from the past —
but from the space in between.
And this is where Odyssey resonates for me.
JOURNAL
