France

A photograph is supposed to show things, unless these belong to the indivisible, the space beyond, such as the absolute darkness of the infinite. In that expanse where the supernatural lurks. The deities long since known and attached to a particular sanctified topos. Delos Island stands out in that category as a place easily identified on a map but physically impossible to reach as one sails in the Aegean Sea. You know it is there, but you are hindered from gaining hold of it. It is as elusive as an imagined place that belongs to another sphere of existence. This explains its flickering sight from a distance which soon leads to a vanishing image at closer distance: as if the magic has escaped.

Stepping out into the sunlit arena and onto the track. The noise of a cheering crowd  swells up alongside competitors as they race around the stadium and past those who just  entered the site of this athletic spectacle. The atmosphere is overwhelming and  intimidating, but exhilarating at the same time. What an experience. Being here. In this  moment.