When Travel is Open to the Unexpected …
"Is life worth living, with a body in tatters and ruins?"
This existential question has long occupied my mind: how to reclaim my place in a society where disability is seen as a figure of the strange?
A significant event in my life: the accident that left me with a motor disability, also profoundly transformed my body and my relationship with it. This upheaval has redefined my perception of myself.
This led me to the creation of an intimate photography project.
In doing so, I explore the repercussions of these abrupt changes, which have heavily impacted my mental state and the perception of my identity. Through this project, I attempt to confront my vulnerability to my disability, and the challenges it creates.
Revealing intimate aspects of my journey allows me to share the emotions and questions that arise from it.
My inner journey, as well as my travels in several countries, are two paths I have taken to face fear and vulnerability.
These are feelings that I wouldn't have explored otherwise.
During these journeys, I've unraveled that the unpredictable has become a regular companion. And I've learned to accept it as such.
As a result, I've also discovered that uncertainty and the unexpected are creative forces that allow me to deepen my understanding of my own being and my environment.
Nothing had prepared me for the drastic upheavals that were to shake my life. Yet, looking at the self portrait I made, more than a year before my accident, I cannot help but sense a dark foreboding, a suffocating atmosphere.
When all my senses began to panic, I tried to penetrate the veil that concealed my future. However, every attempt ended in failure, leaving me alone in the face of uncertainty.
Like a frightened child discovering a new world, while realizing that he has left the old one behind forever.
I feel like a stranger in my own skin. My new body still feels foreign and unfamiliar, as if I'm not quite myself yet. I wonder if I'll ever be able to accept it and feel physically comfortable. It's like a thick fog enveloping my mind, obscuring my vision and preventing me from seeing my place in the world clearly. Like a wandering ghost, desperately searching for its home.
Trying to catch up with one's past proves to be a futile and illusory quest. The elapsed time remains frozen in history and cannot be resurrected in the present. Thus, I leave behind regrets, remorse, and I move forward without burdening myself with unnecessary baggage.
Two worlds join, complement and challenge each other, offering a captivating vision of the duality of existence.
Here is my body, vulnerable, marked by the trials of life. But I feel no shame or regret in showing my transformed physique. It strengthens my self-confidence.
Time dissolved into an intangible cascade of ephemeral moments.
Dissolving into the watery embrace of the Mediterranean, i sought solace. Believing that immersion would accelerate the mending of my fragile essence.
Some years ago, I brushed against death's doors. However, I survived, but not without suffering irreversible scars on my body.
Are the scars I bear a testament to the divine grace that allowed me to survive? Are they merely the signs of divine punishment?
Travel transports me to lands where the past shines with all its glory and grandeur. It prompts me to stand tall, to take a step forward every day, with unwavering determination.
Crossing the boundaries of the ordinary, creating a moment that resonates with the very essence of my being. Going beyond mere physical substance.
Geographies of Contact: The Frontier Where Metal Colonizes Flesh.
Gravity has reversed, but the weight of years past still pulls stronger than before. Encased in unyielding stone, the quest for youthful freedom clashes with the constraining expectations of maturity.
I sit still as the flames devour my companion on life's journey. My wheelchair, once a source of freedom, had become a source of shame. I wanted to vent my anger and disgust after being thrown out of a European tourist hotel. The manager, with a disdainful air, informed me that my chair and the sight of my legs posed a disturbance to other tourists. I was stunned. How could one reject me like this, simply because of my physical condition? So, in a moment of weakness, I set fire to my chair. But now, I can only regret my impulsive act.
An alchemist of fury, who, through lethal heat, forges wood into incandescent shards, exhaling a cloud of contained rage that suffocates her aspirations.
@ Kamel Moussa. Copyright 2023. All Rights Reserved.