It's amazing how many directions photography can go. Undoubtedly a versatile tool. Also, to express intangible sensations, translate them into a visible condition. Of course, to read them, it is necessary to trace the "neuralgic holes," doors of access to a map that is not geographic but rather emotional. It is as if we had to bridge the distance separating the images, grasp their meaning in the pauses, and search for expressiveness in silence. Isn't it what we often do when looking for a suitable space for reflection? And what surrounds us becomes the outline that isolates us enough to listen cautiously. Fertile void reads the title. A gap to probably fill, and everyone can find their own by tracing connections, using creativity as if to invent a plot.
The writer does this when weaving the words together to build a story. And this implies a suspension of judgment, fundamental neutrality for events—a detachment. In short, reading a series of "indifferent" images such as those in Vasilis Ntaopoulos' series is a kind of practice of creative adaptation that stimulates a phenomenological observation aimed at gathering a whole above the parts. A systemic look at the environment. The individual elements operate as perceptive springs of a harmonic experience. I wonder if that's how forests think?