5○ goén "The rough paper brought me this far." No.88

Flea market—
I still don't know why it's called a "flea" market.
But, I feel like I understand it a little bit.

The scent of an old era.
Someone's memories.
Fragments of a life that was let go.

Surely, something invisible is lurking there.

Back when I was struggling in the swamp of photography,
I would often wander aimlessly through the
"Marché aux Puces de Clignancourt" in Paris.

What should I photograph?
Where should I head?
I walked without any answers.

One day, I was drawn into a dusty old bookstore.
In the back of the dim shop, there was a shelf of small photo books.

As I traced the spines with my eyes,
the shopkeeper approached me sullenly.

Not even a "Bonjour."

"I've got this one too, how about it?"

He said, handing me a book.

—"Cowboy Kate and Other Stories: Director’s Cut"
Sam Haskins, 1965 first edition.

The moment I opened the page,
before the impact of the photos, the paper struck me.

Rough matte paper.
The dry sensation remaining on my fingertips.

That texture ran through my body like an electric current.

Photography is not something you see only with your eyes.
It was the moment I realized it is something you touch with your hands, feel with your fingers,
and "read" with all five senses.

Of course, I bought that book.
I remember it was expensive.
But I don't remember the price anymore.

What I do remember is
that the book quietly whispered to me, as I struggled in the swamp of photography:

—"You, come this way."

In the modern age, there are photo books that can be published online.
But my final dream is
to return to the sensation of that rough paper I touched in Paris that day.

Fingers turning the pages.
The smell of the paper.
The silence of the ink.

I want to create a book that preserves photography not as "information",
but as "body heat."

And strangely enough,
the "goén" (connection) I had with that book that day has continued until now.

This April, I happened to see the note Creative Awards.

I began posting there:
"50 Artist Portraits Connected Only by Goén."
It wasn't sales.

It wasn't connections.
Just 50 people I kept photographing through the miracle of human connection.

Today, I finally reached the 50th post.

Thinking back, it was all "goén."

That one photo book covered in dust

at the Paris flea market.
Perhaps that sullen shopkeeper who handed me that book that day

was also on the path leading to who I am now.
Merci Monsieur et pour cette belle rencontre.
#noteCreativeAwards2026


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