The Philosophotographer

Blurring the line between the sacred and the profane.

Yet fear itself she found presented
a hidden beauty in the end:
our disposition being invented
by nature, contradiction’s friend.

—Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

Art is magic delivered from the lie of being truth.

Theodor Adorno, Minima Moralia

Green was the silence, wet was the light,
the month of June trembled like a butterfly.
Oh, in my house beside the abyss, give me
the tormenting structure of that silence,
pavilion of the sea, forgotten in the sand.

—Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets

The uncanny is something hidden which ought to have remained missed but which is brought to light.

—Sigmund Freud, “The Uncanny”

Nothingness lies coiled in the heart of being - like a worm.

Jean-Paul Sartre, Being and Nothingness