A place. A place where I belong. A means; my photo camera. An old-school kind of person. He leans over his book with an old-fashioned affection. The scene is somewhat reminiscent of a coffee shop taken from Joseph Roth’s books. Feeling engrossed, I can’t help but observe what’s unfolding before my eyes. I can’t resist. Striving against my inherent diffidence, I grab my camera and stand mesmerized before the scene that has just taken shape in front of me.
Initially tentative while also keeping some distance, I then proceed to gradually overcome the hurdles and settle on the final frame that I can identify with, breathing.
In my Memory, I kept what soul could see. Hesitantly, the Reader in me walks away from the scene and the Photo has captured the moment in time. One love has rescued the other.
P.S. It may not be my best photo, but it’s definitely the one that helped me break free and reach the Man.
Translated into English by Nikos Loutraris