There was this guy, our hero, who was caught in a time-space trap. The villains where doing knots with the countless universes, to gather as much humans as they could, since they eat them.
The boy found himself in a strange earth, where he meets this girl, our heroine, who was looking for her unicorn. They worked together in a circus and it was the last of his species.
So they walked through the woods until they found this lithe town, a kind of an old one. There they were really welcome, since the previous foreigners were quite aggressive, with their strange fire weapons and their unimaginable vehicles with no horses. They give to our heroes shelter, bath and new clothes. And invited them for a diner where the town’s notables would be gathering in their honour.
During the feast, some servants enter the room, naked, and steal all the jewellery from the town folks. And none of them seams to notice it.
Next morning our friends were wake-up by a mob wanting to hang them for robbery, saying they had abused their hospitality.
They both run through the main street and, at some point, he told her to take her clothes off. Strange request for such situation, but since he was doing the same, she did it. When they were naked, the mob passed by them, without doing what so ever, and keeps looking for them. But now saying they were sorcerers, giving their disappearing into the thin air.
Later, deep in the woods, he explained her that the town folks, still living in a Victorian era, considerer the nudity as the utmost sin, so they couldn’t even sees it. And that is why the robbers and they were invisible at their eyes.
This is part of a science fiction novel I read long, long time ago. And I am sorry, but I can’t remember its name or the author’s name. But when I saw this little unicorn on a shop window I remember the tale and bring it home. My apologise to the author for any inaccuracy, but I wrote it as I recall it.
But this little story also reminds me of most of the photographers. What they bring home in their cameras is nothing but what they are able to “see” under their own limitations due to culture, personality and that day’s mood.
For most of us, most of the times life pass through our eyes and we just can’t see it.
And we select subjects, perspectives and even colours (or their absence) according to those factors.
That is why I say that our photographs, rather than being portraits of our surrounding world, are implicit portraits of the photographer.
The boy found himself in a strange earth, where he meets this girl, our heroine, who was looking for her unicorn. They worked together in a circus and it was the last of his species.
So they walked through the woods until they found this lithe town, a kind of an old one. There they were really welcome, since the previous foreigners were quite aggressive, with their strange fire weapons and their unimaginable vehicles with no horses. They give to our heroes shelter, bath and new clothes. And invited them for a diner where the town’s notables would be gathering in their honour.
During the feast, some servants enter the room, naked, and steal all the jewellery from the town folks. And none of them seams to notice it.
Next morning our friends were wake-up by a mob wanting to hang them for robbery, saying they had abused their hospitality.
They both run through the main street and, at some point, he told her to take her clothes off. Strange request for such situation, but since he was doing the same, she did it. When they were naked, the mob passed by them, without doing what so ever, and keeps looking for them. But now saying they were sorcerers, giving their disappearing into the thin air.
Later, deep in the woods, he explained her that the town folks, still living in a Victorian era, considerer the nudity as the utmost sin, so they couldn’t even sees it. And that is why the robbers and they were invisible at their eyes.
This is part of a science fiction novel I read long, long time ago. And I am sorry, but I can’t remember its name or the author’s name. But when I saw this little unicorn on a shop window I remember the tale and bring it home. My apologise to the author for any inaccuracy, but I wrote it as I recall it.
But this little story also reminds me of most of the photographers. What they bring home in their cameras is nothing but what they are able to “see” under their own limitations due to culture, personality and that day’s mood.
For most of us, most of the times life pass through our eyes and we just can’t see it.
And we select subjects, perspectives and even colours (or their absence) according to those factors.
That is why I say that our photographs, rather than being portraits of our surrounding world, are implicit portraits of the photographer.
Texto e imagem: by me
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