During the pandemic, solo film photo walks through my Utica (NY) neighborhood became, along with my bathroom improvised darkroom, my only refuge against isolation and looming uncertainty.
The daily images that I was to share on Instagram under the alias of @m.for.film were also a way to keep a trace of a decade of an American life about to collapse under the threats of deportation.
I still sometimes update @m.for.film and see it as a rough sketchbook of random photographic experiments free from the constraints of style, coherence and consistency.
