SAMUEL SAADA
I lost my camera, in this camera there was a film to which I was very attached. There was the portrait of my wife, it was one of the only portraits that made sense in our relationship.
She was detached, serene and luminous, from this camera, giving rise to the desire in me to immortalize these unique moments of life, which disappear as quickly as they appeared.
In a desire to fill the void, the camera had been in our apartment in the suburbs of Tel Aviv since 2016.
I had moved in, I had a period of time when I had left this camera, it did not suit the photographic dimension that I wanted to give to my work, so I abandoned it.
Three years during the time has progressed, the light, the heat, the humidity have deposited salvoes and layers of stories, it dragged on, no one paid attention to it, it became abandonment to time and the witness to the unfolding of history.
She reappeared when we left the place of life, the divine memory of reconciliation, of returning to my homeland to leave a last wink in the viewfinder.
I thought at first that the photographs were all lost, then I was able to bring the emulation back to life, the portrait remained, the story did not survive.
