Photography has been a quiet companion throughout my life — not just a tool, but a way of seeing. A way to engage with the world, respond to it, and sometimes pause it — just long enough to notice what's unfolding in front of me, or stirring within.
From a young age, I've felt an impulsion to photograph. Not driven by ambition or discipline, but by something deeper: a reflex to notice, frame, and preserve. Even when I've stepped away from the camera for long periods, that way of seeing never left me. The rhythm returns as if no time has passed. Less hobby, more home.
In my early twenties, I immersed myself in film photography — reading books, experimenting with manual cameras, and spending time in the darkroom. It was a time of close friendships, travel, and fearless exploration. I photographed people, places, and overlooked details that caught my eye — always with the sense that something meaningful might be revealed through the lens.
As life moved forward, photography became more sporadic — but when it returned, it returned with the same eye. What changed was the focus: today my work turns more toward spaces, textures, color, and the slow transformations of the built world. Sometimes nature enters the frame — not as escape, but as another rhythm to follow. Light, form, stillness.
This website brings together two phases of my work:
This project isn't about presenting a perfect or unified body of work. It's an attempt to gather fragments — to trace how I've seen, felt, and responded to the world over time. Some periods were intense; others quieter. The subjects shifted, but something essential stayed constant.
Photography has always helped me make sense of the world, serving as a way to slow down, reflect, and reconnect. Even without a camera, that impulse to notice and observe remains. It's a quiet habit of attention that continues to shape how I move through life.