Night Will Come

A while ago, I woke up in the middle of the night with an absurd feeling that everything was past me, that I had lived it all. I panicked. I got up from the bed and went out, leaving behind my wife and three daughters sound asleep in our downtown apartment. I wandered the city streets aimlessly to return home just before dawn. That night was followed by another, and yet another. Ever since, I have ventured into ever darker and more distant areas of the city in exploration of my inner self – halfway through my life. My choice of the photographic material reflects this introspection process. The pictures are taken on old negatives of sorts, their expiry dates spanning my entire life period. The photographic material co-tells my story, reflecting unwittingly on ageing, passing and unpredictability of experience. The oldest film, a 1980 Kodak (about as old as myself), did not record any actual scene. Instead, its blue-green coloured emulsion is 'burnt' with orange circles reminiscent of a rising sun. Or is the sun setting?