I remember well standing at that one window and just watching the flow of life
Dorothea Lange
I remember I used this quote for a sequence of 3 posts on Instagram about two years ago.
A year later these words got a new meaning for me, as for many of us.
In June 2020 I came back in Sicily unaware when I’ll ever get back to work. I moved to my great-aunt little apartment from which I can, at least, see a slice of Ionian sea, (re)discovering some amazing sunrise colors.

And a slice of Lady Etna

To then remember, after a few months the following lines, that could exactly describe the last 12 months
[…] At some point all but the most intrepid – even the most intrepid – photographers are tempted to retreat inside and contemplate the world from their windows.
If this suggest a return to first principles – one of the very first permanent photographs, a foggy heliographs made by J. NiĆ©pce in 1826, was of a View from the Window at Gras – there is an etymological inevitability about it.
The camera reverts to its origins, returns to the room into which light – and dark – enters.
Geoff Dyer, The ongoing moment
