“I discovered several dozen Polaroids the other day that I had totally forgotten about, in the lowermost drawer of my locker at my workplace. They are images I was assigned to shoot some years back, put away once they had served their purpose, and now, all of a sudden, they were excavated and once again exposed to the sunlight.

Having turned into undefined fragmentary images in pale, indistinct shades of sepia, they stunned me as I looked at them. Over the enormous time that had passed they had degenerated more and more, and what remained were mere ruins, faint traces of a time already separated from the person who shot them. They had transformed into something in another dimension altogether, and seemed to be shouting at me: look at us, and know all the candid details.”