Romee Noyelle
In my other world, I am a moth

photography

Mentoren:
Ives Maes
Bart Kouba

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‘Give me your unknown hand, since life is hurting me and I don’t know how to speak – reality is too delicate, only reality is delicate, my unreality and my imagination are heavier.’ (The Passion According to G.H., Clarice Lispector)

 

I envy moths. I want what they have. I long for what they have. I build my own cocoon and sew my own wings, and then I will dissolve. And I will be vulnerable, because moths tremble, but fly with the most grace.

 

The cocoon is the safest place on earth, made completely out of their discarded self. The caterpillar sheds its final skin and dissolves inside of it. Only to grow into their promised wings and bless the night sky with nectar. But cover the sun, for this creature is fragile and would fly off into that burning bulb.

 

Until my arms get tired and I grow tired, and I need to sleep at night, in my bed.