A planned city. Streets, boardwalks, lines, crossroads, buildings and numbers. I wasn't sure where the original old city centre was so, I started walking on "Main Street". A Post Office. A Newstand. A Starbucks. A restaurant owned by an italian family from the neighborhood. A park where young and old people were spending their beautiful saturday afternoon. Yet something was missing. Where were all the stores I remembered being there once? Probably moved to the suburbs. New structures have appeared. And many other left to their own destiny. New and decay. Gentrification and sprawl. Traffic. Yet I found human presence. Man made structures. Geometry and well thought out plans. Where am I going? Where is urbanism going? Photos by lilypenelope

Folding thoughts, unfolded ideas. Or viceversa? Lines and forms start to develop. Shadows of gray. Black and white. Dreamed colors. Forgotten details. Depth. That's where you have to go to bring them back. To line them up trying to build a story. A drama? A neverending novel? A distorted poetry. Memories. Unpredictable structures.

A final product.

Your Emerald city.

I am there but in fact I am not. Is it me or a distorted non-me? The unreal real me? Future and past. Utopias and heterotopias (as Michel Foucault called them). Metaphors and contradiction. A new space and the other space. Otherness.

I love these terms. They make you think. They make you dream and they make you constuct ideas. But they also allow you to reesumate memories . Yes, because even in reflections there are hidden things. Dualities. Space with no physicality. Yet it is me. Not the real me. Just my reflection. A non existing entity. A space with a non-me.

Spaces, places, future and rememberance. It is the present. Reality as it happens. Driving along the coast of a beautiful lake in a sunny morning. Wind, birds, cyclists and cars. I shoot pictures in front of me. Towards places I will see in minutes. In the future! Then I shoot through my review mirror. The past. Eventhough the landscape and its inhabitants are right there, in reality they already belong to the past. They are behind me.

But what happens when a mirror is broken? Can I still talk about memories? About spaces and non spaces? Here I see distortion. I see multiple layers of meanings, multiple images and multiple stories. Past or future? Utopia or heterotopia? Just a broken reflection. Of me, and the non-me! A place that truly doesn't exist, neither here nor there. Just in an image. Maybe I should just stop thinking and fix my broken review mirror!

I don't know why, but when I arrive at the airport I always feel like I am already in the destination I am supposed to travel to. Eventhough the airport is a non-place and doesn't belong here nor there hte fact to be sitting on an anonymous chair waiting for the boarding call makes you feel you are aleady away from "home". Nevertheless the airport is nowhere. Kloten airport is in the Zurich district but yet it is already abroad since you need to show your passport to enter and leave. A city within a city, a heterotopic space where milions of stories juxtapose, cross and disappear as fast as they come. A place where every traveler belongs yet not belonging anywhere. But ultimately who cares! You arrive. You go through the hassel of burocracy and legislations with your luggage, with your body and with your soul! You eat something waiting for the call. But with your mind at the airport you are already gone! And while departing you already dream of what you'll do once arriving at your destination! I shot this picture capturing a moment in time where you are inbetween two phases. The Here and the There! And in my mind I was already thinking about my first dinner in Paris!