The age of confusion

All the photos were taken in Paris during daily strolls and without any particular idea in mind except to walk.  I found myself moving away from the city centre and inching closer still towards its periphery.  Where Paris stops being Paris and the suburbs start.  I noticed I like open spaces, seeing further. I like that. Having space in front of me.  I maybe always liked that, but it is more pronounced. Like so many things nowadays.  I realised that the photographs reflect the fact that I am constantly intoxicated. I feel like I am always under the influence of something.  Under the influence of a homemade brew, a secretly concocted poisonous potion that only my body knows the ingredients to.  It is however refusing to tell me the antidote. 

It wasn’t always like that and it is difficult to say when the intoxication started exactly and why.  It must have been around 2010, lightyears ago it seems. But there is no way I can pinpoint the exact time or date with certainty.  The sweating, headaches and lightheadedness are things you eventually get used to or you have to adapt yourself to. There is no choice.  It was the age of confusion, not knowing what's wrong. I finally found out what that what was in 2012.  Now, in 2018, it is manageable, this form of dysautonomia, called postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, also known as POTS. This series of photographs I took and named “the age of confusion” needs some explanation.  I included the text above for that reason only.  Even though I feel I said too much already.  Too much about me.