Aïnata

Maybe that place doesn't even exist.

Maybe it only exists in an imaginary film that remains unresolved.

At first, there is a withering memory.

There is a desire to form a landscape in ruins.  Scattered memory, scattered dream, my journey starts upon a loss that arises from the tremor of fantasy.

Here we are in Aïnata in south Lebanon, a place where the Eye follows the stream to it source, where the tales from the land of Ugarit intertwine with our modern rituals and myths.

I try to define a point of view, to recast the whole from a detail, to map out one's own space.

History is to be told, and its stories unfold into a territory, where the archeology of times owes its survival to fiction.