Finally, in the end, there is nothing but the face. The landscapes of the face are how we know each other. But how far can we see? We are asked to expose ourselves until annihilation. At last we don't exist. If man be solely body, its portrait would be the final period of identity. But we are of incorporeal nature, therefore it is not easy to be seen. One needs to squint, to defeat endless distractions. It takes time. It takes patience. When the face is plunged into darkness, you have no choice but to free it from social stereotyping. You must give up your psychological interpretations. You must step out of your own prison cell.
© margot errante