Text and Photography Patrick La Roque
Words hold powerful magic. Scribbled on a torn sheet of paper, yelled or whispered, proclaimed into the vastness of a concert hall or howled into a sweat stained pillow, lost to screams no one will ever hear... They can be pure and soft, or hard — yielding nonsense or the unavoidable truth.
For three days I watch quietly as this object evolves. Three days of incubation, from concept, to form...
From silence to a dark celebration of music and words.
