As a child, when sleep was slow to come, I focused on the phosphenes dancing behind my eyelids. They were the silent companions of my nights, a diffuse and familiar presence. In this way, darkness became a living, vibrating matter, a fascinating experience.
These photographs revisit those memories and approach insomnia as a sensory interlude. They give form to this cerebral hyperactivity, mapping a mysterious mental landscape and inviting exploration of what escapes the eye, encouraging one to be captivated by the charms of the indiscernible. In its refusal, sleep becomes an inner space, a passage between body and mind.
A phosphene is a light sensation that occurs without any light actually reaching the eye. It generally results from stimulation of the retina or excitation of the visual cortex. Phosphenes can appear as moving glows or colored halos. In states of insomnia, while the body rests in darkness and the mind remains awake, phosphenes occur more frequently and with greater intensity.
Published in Di #3 “Insomnia”
Insomnia is not merely a deprivation; it is an alternative, a suspended space, free from temporal constraints, where perception reorganizes itself differently. Far from being an absence, it becomes an exploration, a moment in which reality and imagination intertwine. In this state, perception sharpens: darkness is never absolute—it pulses, vibrates, and fills with diffuse flashes and colored afterimages. Images emerge unbidden, like internal projections with blurred and uncertain contours.