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Have you noticed the photographs that are more about feelings than about things?
In Florence on the 12th of last October I watched the morning light paint trees on the Arno's western bank. The city was in drought so that the water's surface barely shimmered beneath the veneer of reflections.
This dreamy effect wasn't about trees, river, or city. And it drew me to record something quite different from reality. Probably, I realized, I’d never again be here and the moment would soon dissolve into a misty memory. So how to capture what would become a vague smudge of rippling glitter afloat on a river of recollections?
Here’s what I thought I’d recall when time dissolved away the context.