Photography stays with me.
It allows me to become me,
moving between subject and object.
Through the lens,
I register time as it passes,
moments of balance and rupture,
and things that resist easy explanation.
FACES #者
We speak of faces as if they belong only to certain bodies—
to humans, to dogs and cats, to pigs, rabbits, horses, cattle.
But what of an ant?
A shrimp?
A tree?
A mountain?
Through the grammar of the lens, I want to test the limits of that word—and see where a face might begin.
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FORMALITY #形
The frame feels like a canvas.
Framing, light, angle, time, space—the instant itself—
threads of seeing crossing and tangling,
casting shapes, casting shadows.
What takes form here is more than formalism.
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NERVE #妄
Some things are just strange.
Some people even more so.
They don’t explain themselves, they don’t make sense—
yet they pull you in and push you away at the same time.
They belong to civilization,
and to a kind of obsession that won’t let go.
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MACHINE #器
The city is a peculiar kind of landscape—
sealed walls, bodies packed tight, rumors in circulation.
The skyline is always just beyond reach.
Some places carry mountains, the sea, the trace of human life.
Others stretch on with nothing but endless glass windows and grid-like buildings repeating themselves into fatigue.
