The picture is almost covered! This lifeless fragment kills the moment to create a memory; a memory that each time recalls decay—our own decay and that of those we love. Can something be both cursed and praised at the same time? Can this be done with a photograph?

I imagine the photographs before this one and create the ones that follow it. The person who was reclining on the pillow left the room a while ago. The photographer has captured a fleeting moment. The open door and the empty tea glasses say that he will soon return—or that the photographer will soon join him; the photographer, sitting on the ground, trying to capture the effect of his closeness so that those objects cover the portrait.

Is the portrait a more vivid embodiment of a person, or is it the pillow that has become the shape of his body? Is the discovered image the portrait itself, in the usual black-and-white style, or the record of those everyday objects?

Now after seeing these objects and this picture I am a member of the household. I set aside the official public image and I sit on the ground and out of boredom or curiosity I count the cassette tapes and read the words on them. I am waiting to see him.