“The eyes indicate the antiquity of the soul” – Ralph Waldo Emerson
“The eye is the jewel of the body” – Henry David Thoreau
Well, what if they are all wrong? What if the feet are the windows to our souls?
We learn to walk, we walk towards our mothers, later on, we walk away. Our feet go towards the one we love, our foot slides out of our shoe and caresses theirs under the table, whispering. We walk to bed, we walk to war, and sometimes come back with our feet in a wheelchair or in a coffin. We run towards, we run away and we stop. We paint our toenails blue, pink, red, black and sometimes we keep them bare, visible in their nakedness. Our feet grow old, they get blisters, the veins become more visible. They are sometimes insecure or they sometimes take us confidently to a life-altering interview. They grow, the nails on them grow, even after we die, they remain, long after our eyes are gone.
A life in a foot.
Photos 1 to 3 by Sergej Schellen
Photos 4 to 11 by Dima Matta