Friday, February 20, 2009
Stepping into an alleyway behind Dizingoff St. 123, I all of the sudden realized why these locations hold endless fascination for me. Behind the fronts, facades there are hidden stories. Ones that their meaning is allusive. You can sense it touch it and go away. Yet a certain sensations remains, some deeper that you may realize, as seen in this photograph I took tonight: Much like the toils of literature.