Part of a series of images that I shot during a day spent on my own in the Gufa.

Got the key from Doshi's grand-daughter and locked my self in the cave for the day.

The memory of that day is still vivid in my mind...

" I was sitting on the dusty floor of the cave, looking at the yellow sun rays lighting the words of the tale. The mechanical unfolding of the skies of the Gufa revealed a mythology of abstraction. The Gufa is a story told by Doshi. It's a story of the sea curling up on the ribs of the cave and of flat demons hiding in the ferrocement woods. The light in the undergrowth is bent, slowed down with the weight of the city din, outside. It's a tale of the young seeker sitting, meditating in the softness of the dark. The walls of the womb- already dangerously round- bent even more to shelter his small shoulders. There's no straight line here: the Euclidean surveyor whose mission was to photograph the horizontals and verticals of the cave, found himself lost in the convolution of the architecture. His salvation came with unorthodox distortion of his lenses. "