Shaman

An unlikely company, a car loaded with Europe and North Africa, an unusual proposal, and the sand. The road leading south, along the edges of a boundless space, past rugged mountains and suspended, welcoming rooms. Scents and flavors guiding the way to a large sundial that marks time before stopping it.

And then silence, reflections between the car’s glass and the dunes, ancient music, and the chant of a shaman who guides you from the very start. All of this is a fragmented journey through the Morocco of villages, the one that watches you pass and welcomes you until you stop, only to bid you farewell shortly after. Random images collected along the way, instinctively, and some frames from a film, reminding you of the reason for all of this.

A suspended moment over the deserted city, as beautiful as a set and as silent as the desert, alive and astonishing.
Dawn, and then the return. All recorded in these few images. Irregular notes to remember.