Nescio (24)

NESCIO (24)

You see.

The priestess had originally studied visual literacy (before she got into her idiot prophecies).

Once an avid reader of fictional stories, she'd subsequently turned to the practice of photography as an alternative way of making sense of reality. (She'd been known to quote Bakhtin's Discourse in the Novel - on Skype and Facetime, from her domestic hovel - applying to her medium what the man had to say, albeit in some strange and distorted sort of way.)

At least, it all made sense to the menopausal priestess.

So.

As she traipsed the streets (with blisters on her feet) the priestess cursed Szarkowski: his mirrors and windows. She longed for the days of documentary straight-forwardness. A photographic practice that eschewed self-reflection, nothing to do with a personal inflection. (The priestess still suffered from a deep sense of dejection.)

But, instead of working with the ethics of humanism the priestess now struggled with the vagaries of relativism.

She was starting to feel seriously fucked off.