It's a familiar noise, which paces absolutely everything. Music, life, blows. It is a measuring tool, which tans the wrist with a more or less large hole, white for once, because black puts it upside down. It's like a country, out of it, where the pirates are of course the craziest. Light is said to blind, but what about shadow after all? And if you wake up from a dream, this guy will even drive you crazy. The one to regain possession of what one day you had decided to send pait to say "anyway I don't care". To understand that this dream has long been just you. Understand that for a long time you haven't looked things in the face, you run away from them. Responsibilities, pains of the past, to take refuge in something that has no form, except in your eyes, a portal to what for you is a valid reason to avoid everything that happens, all those who pass, all that breaks, all that breaks. An escape from the fear of a reminder of what most frightens you, the memory, and therefore, time. In my shadow, I got lost. I did not watch or I went, I looked at her, I did not listen to what I was told, because a shadow does not listen, it is just what remains behind me when I advance. My shadow is me without any color, no relief, no taste, no smell, no sound. My shadow is something I haven't neglected at all for a long time, because it was the center of my direction. I went where the light did not dazzle me for the beauty it was, for the warmth it brought me, for the comfort given, but for my shadow, and the world I found there.A world where white hair no longer exists, or laughter is the main music on CD or on the radio, a world where the heat of the candles that one blows on the strawberry bush on his birthday is very present, recalling what family is for everyone, a reason to spend time together. A world, or the world, does not matter, because ours is the reason for being in the sun. In this world that I was creating, I found the answers to the questions that I asked myself, with only reason, my protection from everything that happened to me, and that I no longer wanted to understand, so much the reality, was me so unbearable to live. From chess to chess, I saw the common instruction of the world that silence or flight was the reason for things, so I did the same, until I understood, that it is nowhere or that leads, and that to start the opposite way, it is well to see people looking at us with a judgmental eye to go against the grain to better disappear behind our back, than to see them stop understanding, that there is always another way. I captured the light to better highlight the shadow, and thus, played with the creation of the worlds in the infinite shadow of the reality of my life. In the shadow of what scared me the most, to have seen it destroy itself and to see it again, helpless, to go in this direction, where time has no reason but to look for in its shadow, a relief or bring out the light of a hope for reason. I understood to take photos, to flee a world that does not understand my reasons, the one that saw me being born and leaves me now, without possible opinions, and saw in my shadow, a reason to turn my back, a reason to go into "creation". The dreamer is therefore, a deep addict of creation or imagination, he is elsewhere, he is, in his world.