THE BODY THAT PRAYS

i didn’t want to photograph a bride
i think that’s where it started

not a wedding
not a story
not something clean
just a body
in a place that already holds too much meaning

churches are strange
everything is already decided before you enter
where to stand
where to look
what it means
you don’t really belong there
you just repeat something

hands together
ok
but why this gesture
who decided this was the right way to ask for something

i kept thinking about paintings
women looking up
waiting
always waiting
i don’t know if they were praying
or just being seen as praying
(and if there’s even a difference anymore)
so we tried
not to recreate
not exactly
just to stay there long enough
she stands
lace, veil, skin
nothing hidden
everything controlled
it looks right
too right maybe
like an image that already exists somewhere else
and that’s the problem
because the moment you recognize it
it stops being real

there’s a video where i’m filming her
well
where charlène is filming me filming her
and suddenly everything shifts
you see the distance
you see the construction
you see me
and it almost breaks it
almost
i like that
i like when the image doesn’t fully hold
when something leaks out
a hand that drops too early
a breath that wasn’t planned
a look that doesn’t go where it should
that’s the only place where it becomes something else

i don’t think she’s praying
or maybe she is
but not to god
maybe to the image
maybe to the idea of being seen inside it
maybe just to hold the position
long enough
for us to believe it

i’m not trying to show faith
i think i’m trying to understand
why the body still remembers these gestures
even when we don’t believe anymore
and why
they still look so beautiful
even now

i thought it would feel sacred
it didn’t
it felt quiet
a bit empty
almost fragile
like something that could disappear if you look at it too directly
maybe that’s what’s left
not belief
just the shape of it