Giovana Pasquini Fotografias | quando o deserto já não basta

METONYMY OF TIME

Faced with the unknown, I stopped.

The noise outside fell silent momentarily. The noise inside continued to echo at different rhythms. Time became elastic in a reduced and multiplying universe. It was the beginning of suspended days, without guarantees, but supported by expectations and desires that, at some point, would become reality.

METONYMY OF TIME Faced with the unknown, I stopped. The noise outside fell silent for a moment. Inside, it continued to echo at different rhythms. Time became elastic in a reduced and multiplying universe. It was the beginning of suspended days, without guarantees, but supported by expectations and desires that, at some point, would become real.