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This is a bullet hole. A bullet entered this pane of glass from the outside world.

The outside world is initially not our centre of focus, but it is hinted at,
for the moment, though, it is purely the context of this story.

You are the critic : a detective of meaning.
Here before you lies an outlined impression, a body of evidence,
before a pane of glass, revealing a city, shot through by a bullet.

The outside world is Johannesburg, the evidence is 19 storeys high.
When was the bullet, that passed through this glass, fired? And by whom?

What atmosphere, out there, caused a bullet to pass?
A heated domestic argument ? A wild and reckless wild west New Year ?
We’ve all heard the stories of washing machines and fridges.

You always predict the romantic worst.

BUT something is missing : A Narrative ? A story ?
“A subtle collision/collusion in which aesthetic beauty torques against the facts of life.”

A Romantic landscape brought into strong contrast –
playing acts of physical and spiritual violence against photography’s ability to depict or document the real. Simultaneously unmasking and conjuring a haunting image of the shifting Johannesburg personality.

It captures a nation at a transitional, melancholic moment.
Evidence perhaps of an even subtler civil war still raging within ?

(If you live in a glass house don’t throw stones.)

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