So when you ask me where I am, I can only answer that I’m not
here. I’m there, in that other place, but not one hundred percent.
You could say that I’m only present in this ‘there’ as an image, and
that this ‘there’ only excists as an image for me. Like two projections
of moving images playing opposite to each other. But both images
contain this suspense, this terrible expectation of the moment
in wich they will meet. Here and there, sky and ground, digital and
physical, image and it’s real equivalent. The moment the boundary
between them is destroyed passes in a flash of a second for me,
but there, for them, this moment marks the beginning of something
which can never be changed or undone. The camera, or the image
produced by it, marks the place of battle and this battle is ended
with the inevitable explosion, that mirrors it in the middle of it.