12 november 2016
Two boats set sail in those prewar years a century ago: the boat that sailed on and the boat that sank. Olympic or Titanic? Which is ours? It is, perhaps, essential to life to think that we know where we’re going when we set out—our politics and plans alike depend on the illusion that someone knows where we’re going. The cold-water truth that the past provides, though, may be that we can’t. To be a passenger in history is to be unsure until we get to port—or the lifeboats—and, looking back at the prow of our ship, discover the name, invisible to our deck-bound eyes, that it possessed all along.
Everything is new, every minute is new. It means re-examining. Life changes every minute. The world is being created every minute and the world is falling to pieces every minute. Death is present every where, as soon as we are born and it is a very beautiful thing the tragic, le tragic de la vie – what is tragic in life – ’cause there is always two poles and one cannot exist without the other one. It is these tensions I am always moved by. [...] I love life, I love human beings, I hate people also. I enjoy shooting a picture, being present and it’s a way of saying yes, yes, yes. [...] It's yes, yes, yes. And there is no maybe.