Who are you photography?

Why such question? Otherwise how? How could I talk to the light? I am trying to plunge into its world and bring it to the surface under the shape of letters. What an impossible mission has been assigned to me. It is as if I would rudely and constantly rummage the mystery of the infinite man. But...do you remember the shooting starts? ...well, knead infinite stars in your palm and then, as genuinely as a child, throw them back into the universe. Men and worlds will emerge. Somewhere out there, a tiny bit of light is my world and the light within it.

Through light, all things have shape and enhance effect. Light reveals itself to me and I am surprised. I do not believe in shapes and colors. . . . I do not even know if they truly exist. I do not believe in the moral of shapes, I do not believe in the moral of lightless words, I do not believe that . . . I do not believe that light is ultimate or absolute . . . I press the shutter towards infinite worlds . . . (even my world), and they all fall mingled through the child's fingers and they settle plainly on the silverish forever. A soulful image. I close the shutter . . . darkness in the hand of the lightless child.

Wondering what all this has got to do with photography?

This is how I feel it.

This is my creed . . . ABOUT LIGHT.