I understand “being lost” as a constant search for the intangible, for experience and the possibility of learning and discovering things I have yet not found, things I have yet to imagine. The idea of losing oneself relates to a lack of guidance, letting go of what one has learned, allowing the environment to shape one’s behaviour, and entering the unknown. It’s there where the truth unveils itself.
Constant travelling brings a kind of romanticism, one belonging to heroic deeds and expeditions bound to fail. Perhaps when icebergs leave their origin to wander aimlessly and vulnerably into that great mass of saltwater, we are able to understand their way of being, their present and future. The most austere submerge their mass under water, unnoticed; others drift clamouring their beautiful ruin. These wanderers disappear as time passes. For them, being lost is the only way to persist.
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Photography by Jorge Losse
Words by Benjamin Ossa
Edited by Bis Turnor & Laura Beneyto