  
Pedestrian in Moscow carries with a load of intrinsic unease of darkness and sorrow. People come and go. There is no clue from the visual expression of a yesterday or a today. Apart from meeting the pedestrian, I encounter the grandmothers and the grand-daughters. The couple of old and young extensifies the variance of age. It is a different stage of life, a deviation of eyesight and human touch. The two go together along the path of pass by...on the street, in the metro and in front of the staring redlight. They are intimate and cohesive. I see no space between the two entities. People claim that Russian people are cool and sensationless in front of strangers, but they are frank and amiable to families and friends. There is no point to testify the validity of the perspective. A stereotype trap. The grouping of grandmothers and grand-daughters is a nice strike. I walk through the intersection of the pass by, and again, this is human nature.Libellés : moscow, russia, sense |
