I said to a friend last night, how I don't understand how anyone can be sure about anything anymore. And yet, I find great comfort in constant sensation of 'not knowing'. If anything, this certainty of doubt gives me great consolation. And strangely enough, given all that has happened over the last few months, I was pleasantly surprised to find out - after being forced to dig deep into my head - that I am still unchangeably hopelessly and inexplicably optimistic.
And in my head, I find myself constantly thinking about what Delahaye said:
... he maintains that "photojournalism is neither photography or journalism. It has it's function but it's not where I see myself: the press is for me just a means for photographing, for material, not for telling the truth. In magazines, the images are vulgar, reality is reduced to a symbolic or simplistic function. . . one of the reasons for the photographs' large size is to make them incompatible with the economy of the press." - Link