In winter’s mist, leaves drift like fragments of forgotten whispers, touching the earth in silence. It is a fleeting sign that winter has brushed the city’s edge, like a breath held before release.
Winter doesn't arrive silently. The sharp, cold air carries a faint scent of fire, each breath a reminder of warmth lost and the year's quiet ending. Shadows of unseen birds lift their voices, filling gaps left by the season’s retreat, their eyes fixed on a half-seen forest blurred by distance and fog.`
Do you hear it? The quiet magic I once overlooked now vibrates in the season’s stillness—forms scattered and dazzling as they converge and retreat. The distant forest stirs like a living, shifting chorus of leaves and branches, pulsing and swaying. It beckons, calling souls like mine to move, to step beyond the ordinary and into the flow, where stillness is merely a pause before the next breath, the next step forward.
Petrichor is a photographic meditation on existence. It is an attempt to trace the contours of the self through recurring visions: an untamed horse, the dome of a mottled palace marked by time, a silent sea stretching beyond comprehension, and a pathway that leads nowhere yet insists on being followed. These images return to me like fragments of a dream from which I have never fully awakened. By photographing them as they surface from memory and intuition, I confront the questions that have quietly accompanied me for years.
The title refers to the scent that rises from the earth after rain, a presence that is invisible yet unmistakable, born from the meeting of sky and soil. In a similar way, this project emerges from the meeting of time and the body, of memory and the present moment. The photographs inhabit a space where the remembered and the imagined become inseparable.
This work grew out of a prolonged uncertainty about growth and time. I wandered for years within the question “what am I,” aging before I fully understood what that aging meant. I came to realize that the tension between youth and adulthood is not simply about maturity, but about the instability of self-existence. We shed former versions of ourselves, yet they continue to linger within us.
Time does not answer the question of being; it only deepens it. The confusion of living within constant change cannot be resolved by waiting, but by turning inward and confronting the idea of “myself.” In *Petrichor*, the landscape becomes psychological terrain shaped by instinct, memory, silence, and direction without certainty. Together, these elements form not a conclusion, but a constellation of questions.
These images are what rise when time touches the self, ephemeral, elusive, and undeniably real.
Light is the fundamental force that shapes photography, and recording its presence is at the center of One Day Solar. This project traces the movement and intensity of sunlight over the course of a full day, using extended exposures to make visible a continuous flow that normally escapes perception.
Working with pinhole cameras, I allowed light to accumulate on photosensitive material for hours at a time. Bright daytime sun creates dense bands and gradients, while the quieter light of dusk, night, and early morning registers as subtle tonal shifts. Rather than capturing single moments, these photographs function as records of duration—visual measurements of how light changes as the sun moves across the sky.
One Day Solar focuses on photography’s ability to translate time into form, presenting light not as an image of the world but as physical evidence of its passage.
Serenity is a photographic project that documents my personal discomfort with my own existence. By intentionally placing myself back into situations that once unsettled me, I chose to confront and re-experience the emotional shifts they provoked. Through this process, I observed subtle transformations that reflect fleeting psychological movements as they surfaced and dissolved. These transient states are rendered in static, ambiguous images, where clarity gives way to atmosphere. The photographs become traces of a passage from tension toward a fragile sense of relief.
I regard this project as a self-imposed experiment, a sequence of reactionary gestures born from deliberate actions. Although each photograph isolates a singular frozen instant, I believe life unfolds as a continuous current rather than as a series of fragments. Serenity attempts to reconcile this paradox. By revisiting moments of unease, I reconstruct the emotional continuity that connects them. In doing so, I create a space to confront discomfort not as an obstacle, but as a necessary path toward a more peaceful self.
In Eclipse, the photographic process is reduced to its essential components: light, chemistry, and time. By utilizing the Chemigram, the work bypasses the lens to interact directly with the physical surface of light-sensitive metirial.
The project explores a visual language of moon-phases, where the unpredictable reactions between resists and silver halides mimic the celestial shifts of the lunar cycle. Each piece is an alchemical record of a controlled struggle: the paper is layered with various resists, then repeatedly submerged in developer and fixer under open light. This process creates organic, cratered textures and luminous gradients that evoke the ethereal glow of an eclipse.
In Eclipse, the act of image-making becomes a ritual of listening to light. These images are not windows through experience but echoes of experience, inviting reflection on perception, fragility, and the luminous choreography between chance and intention.