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At the beginning it was this rude guy who told me  “This is invalid, the image is blurred”. Maybe. 


Or the fact that I was looked so strange when taking my negatives to the  shops. Maybe.


Or maybe my true and only teenage experience of  being -let`s say- “not-officially-beautiful” while others were.

Tokyo. Japan.

The fact is that I grew up with a kind of feeling about WHAT is correct and WHAT is not but over all WHY some things are VALID  and WHY some others are INVALID…( suspecting, of course, that I was an INVALID  thing because of my not-official-beauty).

Becoming unprecious is my pleasant way of asking  people to see beyond official views. These are my residual points of view, my  rejected images, my non-official-beauty, unprecious and unprecise  images.

There is beauty where you want to find it, and  meaning in whatever element if you are ready to read it. It is easier to accept official views.  But by his way, you are loosing your own.

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