A station, a train station, a bus station, a cross roads of lives, stories, rail tracks, and roads, thoughts, ideas, joys, or despair… the same station I passed through yesterday, the same station I will be passing through tomorrow, and still a different one, a breathing living organism… a place of all encounters, and a place of all loneliness, a modern desert island… in the middle of the atrium, a camera in hand, I shoot to the sky, I free the birds of my thoughts and dreams at this crossroad of possibilities.
A Fish on a Hill 