Poetry in Dystopia

Photography has always been a means to understand the world. A way to look into the unfamiliar and try to find myself in it. Squeeze everything down to the microlever, shake it out and keep only what is yours. How to transform the, what would have otherwise been, unbearable into something personal and make the world into a familiar place. This is a body of work from my stay in London,UK. A place so different from home that shook me to my core. Hundreds of people wearing suits, getting out of the tube,walking in the same direction,working the same hours,finishing work at the same time,getting back to the tube but a bit more worn out than before. Every day a bit more...and a bit more. Looking the same. Acting the same. Like they were taken out of a photocopy machine or a factory mould. A place so big that you think it would never end. Wherever you go, wherever you turn it would always be the same place. The same town. An endless loop. The feeling of time passing by in a very new and unfamiliar way. Moving fast and slow at the same time. Days go by slowly while years go by fast. The brown skies. The starless nights. My viewfinder has been my only way to find Poetry in Dystopia