If life is empty and meaningless and it doesn't make a difference, then, as far as the photographer is concerned, nothing is true, everything is possible, nothing is forbidden, and everything is, was and ever shall be the possibility of one hand clapping: the sound of a photograph from infinity to futility.
In other words, when the photographer is nothing but space - full, empty, bending beyond being, moving beyond becoming, a space where there is no goal, no journey, no purpose, no cross and no crown, seeing from that space, then that's the sound of one hand clapping: the sound of a photograph from infinity to futility.
I suppose some people never think much about it, I mean about "one hand clapping". What is it clapping with?
It would probably sound like a tennis ball thrown over and over at a wall, the ball being the one hand. Or it might be like Siamese twins clapping, each with their share of one hand.
