”A Day in Frame” - Paris - Contact Sheets- 10/12 - 13/12/25

Sometimes I feel that this isn’t really about photography. It is about anything you dive into so deeply that you risk losing yourself. You reach toward the world, and suddenly you notice that you are the one suspended in midair, almost hanging from your own camera. As if it holds you instead of you holding it. And in that moment it becomes unclear who is refusing to let go.

I often think that if I could stop photographing, I would. Maybe I would be calmer. Maybe happier. Life without this constant pull might look lighter, more transparent. Without the urge to stop what is always slipping away. Without the endless conversation with light.

But photography is more than a camera. It is a way of breathing. A way of not disappearing. A way of speaking when the voice fades. Even when I feel like a shadow on the wall or a figure in the mirror, tied to my own obsession.

Photography keeps me on the edge between life and memory. It asks questions that have no ready answers. It forces me to look where it hurts and where it feels tender. To look inward even when I would rather close my eyes.

And strangely, there is freedom in this. A paradoxical, heavy, fragile freedom. But real. Because as long as I search for the image, I search for myself. As long as the camera holds me, I know I am still alive.

Paris, Self Portrait, December 2025

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