Dear me,
Yesterday you walked onto that set without expectations.
You were sure it wasn’t your space.
You don’t like shooting events, and you expected a quiet, straightforward day.
Ten hours passed almost unnoticed.
You stayed present, attentive, fully there.
You made images that held the mood of the day as it was.
And somewhere along the way, you realized you were enjoying it.
When you got home, something settled quietly.
You hadn’t lost yourself by being there.
You had opened up.
You saw there is room for projects that aren’t only about you,
for collaboration, for friends,
for commercial, unexpected work
that gently pushes you outside your comfort zone.
Remember this moment.
You don’t have to define yourself so narrowly.
Let yourself be surprised.
12.01.2026
Yesterday you walked onto that set without expectations.
You were sure it wasn’t your space.
You don’t like shooting events, and you expected a quiet, straightforward day.
Ten hours passed almost unnoticed.
You stayed present, attentive, fully there.
You made images that held the mood of the day as it was.
And somewhere along the way, you realized you were enjoying it.
When you got home, something settled quietly.
You hadn’t lost yourself by being there.
You had opened up.
You saw there is room for projects that aren’t only about you,
for collaboration, for friends,
for commercial, unexpected work
that gently pushes you outside your comfort zone.
Remember this moment.
You don’t have to define yourself so narrowly.
Let yourself be surprised.
12.01.2026
It began with a moment of stepping outside a space I had considered safe. The images emerged from attentive presence rather than intention. Only later did I recognize that they marked a deeper shift than I had initially understood.
With distance, the need for an intervention appeared, not to correct or close the images, but to allow them to open further. The stitching became a gesture of continuation. The thread crosses each photograph and extends into the next without physically joining them. The pattern moves from one frame to another and remains open, functioning as a line that creates connections rather than boundaries.
The paper is pierced point by point, and the surface acquires a second structure, visible and fragile at once. The intervention does not limit the original meaning of the photographs. Instead, it enables them to unfold as a continuous sequence in which each image forms part of a larger trajectory. The stitching introduces rhythm, duration, and a direction that was not present before. Between the frames, a space of transition emerges, an opening that allows for new ways of working and looking.
