What is left from home , childhood and homeland memories.
What is strange and what is normal, what is what is real and what is memory or imagined? Sometimes this whole dance between now and then, this vulnerability where there is a sense of the absurd or ridiculous in what we share in this life while we try to make sense of everything.
During a difficult phase, I picked up my old film camera that I had not used in 20 years and roamed areas of my 2 estranged motherlands, Morocco and Austria, which harboured childhood memories and yet felt like new countries.
I was like a stranger in a strange motherland.
Light leaks, manipulated 35mm film, produced extremely saturated psychedelic images which I edited by removing patches colours through random shapes and doodles.
Memories does something similar, they coats images with colours tastes and feelings that become a new reality of the past, sometimes very intense, an expired present, dreams and nightmares. Memories equally add or remove random events , dull moments or those too painful to recall.
How can I find the balanced tone?
Or do I? After all black and white and the intense hues can be very appealing and elevate the daily to another realm
