The Corpses of My Hours, by Boris Loeve
When I first saw this series “The Corpses of my Hours”, by Boris Loeve, I not only fall in love by them (in fact wishing myself to have taken them), but also what came to my mind was all the existentialist philosophers, from Heidegger to Sartre, imagining them there – including Kafka and Nietzsche – discussing the eventuality of death within life. But I’m going to save you from a class of philosophy so you don’t have to feel covered like a statue in winter.
I talked before about identity in the post Anonymous: defaced, unfaced, 2faced and overfaced. And recently being interviewed for a magazine one of the questions was about identity and nothingness, quoting Sarah Moon who wrote “For nothing to happen, something has to happen first”. that you can see at the previous article Alchemy.
“The Corpses of my Hours”, is a very clever series on personal identity in time. Boris Loeve sent me some words about it:
“Photography is all about identity crisis. One cannot decide what his photography will look like. In the best case scenario, you will be able to slightly push the outcome towards one direction or another. Eventually, the images will allow you to look back at the time you took them, and help you clarifying your own state of mind by then.”
Here is what these pictures say, eventually:
the fight is over
And the corpses of my hours
Dead corpses of my hours and of my foolish years
They lie defeated and begin to rot.
le champ est libre. Voilà que bientôt
sur le pauvre Kuru-Kshetra of my life
l’herbe très timide se mettra à pousser… »
[Excerpt from « Le sang du Ciel », written in french –and in English- by Piotr Rawicz]
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