AS THEY ARE

I found him in the middle of the Sahara, in Merzouga, sitting with a group of Gnawa musicians who had invited me to join them. He held his karkabas with the ease of someone who has always held them — metal castanets passed down through generations of a culture that carries its history in sound.
For a long time he looked away. He knew the camera was there. He chose, for a while, not to acknowledge it.
And then he gave in. Not to me — to something else. To the moment. To the truth of being seen.
That look is why I photograph.