Origami
The word Ori-Gami comes from Japanese: Oru, meaning “to fold,” and Kami, meaning “paper.” The earliest forms of origami, called Go-Hei, were made of simple strips of paper folded into geometric shapes. These were tied to a string or attached to a wooden rod and used to demarcate sacred spaces. For the Japanese, giving someone an origami crane is a symbol of purity.
It was precisely while looking at a small paper crane that the idea came to me to create a photographic project using this ancient Japanese art, placing it in natural settings. I was struck and fascinated by how many incredible and wonderful subjects could be created simply by folding a sheet of paper.
At first, to make them, I asked for the help of a psychotherapist friend who used origami for therapeutic purposes. Later, overwhelmed by work commitments, she encouraged me to carry on alone. And so, somewhat unwillingly, I had to learn to make them myself. But I bless that unexpected turn of events, because it allowed me to enjoy the tactile pleasure of learning to fold paper, to understand the differences between the various types of paper used, and to feel the satisfaction that comes every time I succeed in creating an origami I never thought I’d be able to make.
There were also failures—quite a few of them. Origami teaches that too: the art of acceptance.
Over time, however, I changed my approach to their creation. I stopped asking myself how long it would take, or how many times I would have to start over. I simply kept going, endlessly, until I found the insight that would allow me to overcome those critical points that almost always, inevitably, appeared along the path toward completion.
