I Am

I Am stems from my inability to make sense of things, from feeling out of place in a world that constantly demands that I be something.

My life seems to crack a little every time I fail to recognise myself in external roles and expectations. Trying to fit in means betraying my truth, denying that unique part of who I am.

In this space, photography – and the self-portrait in particular – becomes a practice of presence. A way to return to myself, to let go of roles and definitions, to cast aside my masks and immerse myself in the here and now.

I feel my body, my breath, my movement.

I let the image emerge from a state of listening, without trying to control it.

Long exposures, the distortion and expansion of forms are the traces of a state of suspension: beyond time, space and any definition.

The body ceases to be a limitation and becomes a threshold.

A gateway to something vaster, to that which need not be defined in order to exist.

I am nothing in the Universe, and yet nothing in the Universe is not me.

We are transient forms, constantly in motion.

Perhaps the meaning does not lie in who we are, but in the way we live our lives: with love or with fear, with or without awareness.

Photography, then, does not seek answers.

Stay. Listen.

And, for a moment, it dissolves all separation.