Through the trees, the dreams and my hands stretched out towards hope, this moon that gives rhythm to our cycles, I would like to invent it, to remake it like clay, to give it life again in my lives.
Series of 84 photographs on a potter’s wheel.
Through the trees, the dreams and my hands stretched out towards hope, this moon that gives rhythm to our cycles, I would like to invent it, to remake it like clay, to give it life again in my lives.
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