impressions

I shot the photographs in August 2004 in Amandola and Ascoli Piceno, Italy, and mailed them to my friend and poet Danko Mönitz. He replied that he was inspired by the photos and wrote captions to go with them. He had no idea where the photos were shot or the circumstances surrounding them.

impressions images by Ivan Pešić; words by Danko Mönitz

"And you really believe it?"
"Yes."
"What if we don't find them?"
"I would consider it bad luck. Like, unfavourable circumstances."
"But..."
"But I would still believe it. I like the idea. You know that."
"I do... Shall we go, then?"
"Yes."

When Ryuichi left, he took all the angels with him.
After months of rain and solitude in the hub of Meguro, I decided to go to Italy.
Now I'm wandering through the stony streets and squares, it's almost autumn.
The light gets mellower, the air smells of wilted flowers.
The waiter says, love and beauty are both vulnerable. Love can die from its wounds, but the angels change appearance and go on shining, keepers of beauty.

When pleasures abound, we rely on experience.

We slow down, approaching the possibilities without intentions. We notice the unexpected, the pattern of it. We blend in.

When the sun changes the shadows, we remember. When the geometry turns into poetry, we remember.

Then, out of pleasure, we decide.

The bicycles will be biciclette. The wall will be muro.

And shadows will be ombre.

One of Aslessandro's favorite topics was - stilness.

He would elaborate on the idea of immobility - or, as he liked to put it - of inactive presence, for hours, absolutely unaware of the afternoons that were passing by. Sipping his spremuta d'arancia, he would explain to me calmly and somehow solemnly, the concept of calmness, the nuances of openness…

I liked very much these afternoons. The smells around us, the smiles, the small talk of the Bar; I would listen to him, carefully, enjoying the play of light in the corners of my eyes.

Let's assume that in a few seconds Anna and Marco will meet;

in full sun, in the very center of the piazza.

Their shadows will merge, elongated by the slanting light.

We won't be able to see the encounter; the shadow of the pillar will hide the four figures, leaving us with two empty blocks of light...

Dreaming on - a second or two, not more - we could see them returning, holding hands and talking, towards the arcades. But which of the two blocks of light will they choose to settle into our memory?

Thank You for appreciating