©2016 Adria Salvado. All rights reserved.
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This could be the most boring story ever. Even thought those who surround me, keep asking me to explain how I live my life.
My name is Adria Salvado and I live in a small apartment in this big city.
I do not have the feeling of having any exciting or more special life than others, but I’m happy to say that I had always tried, and more or less succeed to live according to a few rules only: sitting next to someone I enjoy being with, being myself and laughing at stories, always with a cup of tea, well, is one of my main rules.
The boring part is, I’m in my mid-thirties, I was born in Barcelona and photography caught me while I was spending a lot more time than needed with my hight school girlfriend, in the dark room she owned at her parents home, even without a nice mattress.
but biographies are written for those who surround us…
-I love photography. You sit by my side, close to me. We start with the lasso, like the cowboys, I select, I cut, I paste and voilà! a finished photo. Meanwhile, with a tea to keep us warm, we laugh at my friends, their husbands and at the fact that everyone seems to be crazier with each passing year.-
-My dirty frozen hand shakes inside a glove full of holes while it holds a plastic glass that seems heavy as hell, even thought it is almost empty. I don’t even exist to those for whom I am a mere toll on their way to work, feeding their tranquil consciences with a few coins. Only that young boy stops for a second, he looks at me as though I was his missing father and he presents me with a tear that never falls.-
-I love him, I want him, -.. but he desperate me.
-There, standing, inert, absurd and distorted body. It won’t even look at me. Loveless and disdainful it waits for no-one in return for nothing. It stinks and I spit on it. Nevertheless, I’ll never know who it is.
and well, about photography? - the importance lies in the story, doesn't it? Like everything else.
(This is me, I guess.)